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Smith, Alice Prescott

"Montlivet"

"Handle those Hurons
carefully, monsieur. It is a tricky breed."
"But I have no"---- He stopped, and looked at me strangely. "What
made you think that I was near?"
"For one thing I heard your axe yesterday."
"But yesterday I was five leagues from here."
I whistled through my teeth. I hate a useless lie. "I heard your
axe," I reiterated. "This morning you and your men passed me in the
fog."
He stared at me, then at the forest. "Monsieur, I have no men!"
"What?"
"I came alone."
"Monsieur, you are lying."
"It is you who are mad. Take your hands away!"
"I will let you go when you tell me the truth. Remember, your men
passed me this morning."
"I tell you, I came alone."
"Where are your Indians that Cadillac sent with you?"
"I sprained my ankle and they left me."
"Where did they go?"
"How should I know? I tell you they left me."
"Was Pemaou, the Huron, one of them?"
"He was guide. Monsieur, what do you mean?"
I could not answer. My throat was dry as if I breathed a furnace
blast. I looked at the canoe under my hands. It was not seaworthy.
"Will your canoe carry two?" I cried.
He nodded. His great rough face was sickly with suspense.


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