"The Baron desires an audience with
him."
Cadillac pushed up behind me. "I am here," he called to the orderly.
"Tell the Baron that I will see him when the sun touches the water-line."
Then he pulled me back into the room. "How much do you think the Baron
knows?" he demanded.
I felt shame for my forgetfulness. "Pemaou was in the Ottawa camp," I
said, and I told him what had happened.
Cadillac's face hardened. "Then they have sent to demand the prisoner,"
he pondered moodily. "I had hoped for a few hours' respite. There might
have been some way for the prisoner to escape."
I had been walking the floor, grinding my mailed heels into the pine
wood. "Escape!" I cried at him. "Escape! To starve or be eaten by
wolves! The torture of the Ottawas were kinder. Now it is your turn to
play the child. Escape? Yes, but not alone. Go, go, monsieur! Go and
meet the Baron. Go before I change my mind. Tell the Baron he can have
the prisoner. Then go to Longuant, and make what terms you will with
him. Make any concessions. Feather your nest while you can. I want
some one to win at this, since I must lose. I will take the prisoner
west with me."
Cadillac seized me. "Montlivet, you mean this?" he demanded.
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