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Smith, Alice Prescott

"Montlivet"

"
I waited, and my mind was heavy. If the chief called me "brother" in
turn, I was ready to embrace him as of my kin. For he was full of
vigor of mind and honesty, and I respected him. He had been kind to
me. Would he trust me against the evidence,--the evidence of his ears
and of my reluctant tongue?
He temporized. "The Frenchman has a tongue like a bobolink,--pleasant
to hear. Whether it says much,--that is a different matter. Can the
Frenchman tell me why he wishes to go to Michillimackinac? Can he tell
me why he spends time from the moon of breaking ice to the moon of
strawberries building a lodge of promises, and then when he is just
ready to use the lodge blows it down with a breath?"
What could I tell him? That I was following a woman? That I had given
her my name, and that I must protect her? It would sound to him like a
parrot's laughter. This was no court of love. It was war. A
troubadour's lute would tinkle emptily in these woods that had seen
massacre and knew the shriek of the death cry. Again I set my teeth
and rose.
"Outchipouac, war is secret. I cannot tell you why I go to
Michillimackinac. But trust me. I go on business; I shall return at
once, within ten days, unless the wind be foul.


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