"The Hurons--those of the Baron's band--would have held you as
a hostage,--perhaps as a deputy."
He looked up with interested eyes. "You are playing some political
game, and these tribes are your counters. I should like to understand."
I examined his look, but could make nothing of it. "You will pardon
me, monsieur," I said with a shrug, "but these are troublous times, and
I find it hard to believe you as ignorant as you seem."
He still met my look. "And if I were not ignorant?" he asked. "Could
I, one Englishman, alone and unarmed, accomplish anything that would
hurt you? You see that I am harmless. Why not be friends?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"So you are determined that I am a secret ambassador," he meditated.
"Well, I must act my part with dignity. And you think we cannot be
comrades? I dislike to irritate you as I do."
I answered him soberly. "We will be partners," I agreed; "friends for
the night's bivouac, willing to help and to share."
"But you will not trust me?"
I looked away. "What would a truce between us mean? You are English,
I, French. Be assured that sooner or later the fox eats the hen."
He laughed. "Who is to be the fox?" He jumped to his feet.
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