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Smith, Alice Prescott

"Montlivet"

I have been alone. I have thought it
out. I cannot do wholesale murder to save one life, even if it is my
wife whose life is to be forfeit. We must go on."
Cadillac put out his hand and caught my shoulder. I had reeled against
him as I spoke. He removed his hat.
"I await your plans, Monsieur de Montlivet. My troops are ready."
When I found Onanguisse he examined me from under drooping lids.
Despite his age, he was wont to hold his head like a deer, but now his
look was on the ground. He handed me a richly feathered bow and a
sheaf of arrows.
"I cannot use them," he said. "I called her daughter. I gave her a
robe in token. It is only a porcupine who turns against his own. A
chief remembers."
I pressed the bow back. "Take it, and save her. I do not know how.
You are an old man in knowledge, I am a child. I trust to you to bring
her to me."
He looked up at that, and shook his head in sorrow when he saw my face.
But he would not take his bow. "One man cannot save her," he said, and
he bowed his head again and went away.
I did not speak. I saw him summon his warriors and reembark. In the
general tumult his leaving made little stir. The Pottawatamies were
arrogant, called themselves "lords," and exacted tribute of the other
tribes of La Baye.


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