He knew that his friends in the thickets
behind him were watching, and he was equally sure that French and
savages in the thickets before him were watching too. He had no doubt
the baleful eyes of Tandakora were glaring at him at that very moment,
and that the fingers of the Ojibway were eager to grasp his scalp. The
idea, singularly enough, caused him amusement, because his imagination,
vivid as usual, leaped far ahead, and he foresaw that his hair would
never become a trophy for Tandakora.
"You smile, Mr. Lennox," said St. Luc. "Do you find my words so
amusing?"
"Not amusing, chevalier! Oh, no! And if, in truth, I found them so I
would not be so impolite as to smile. But there is a satisfaction in
knowing that your official enemy has underrated the strength of your
position. That is why my eyes expressed content--I would scarcely call
it a smile."
"I see once more that you're a master of words, Mr. Lennox. You play
with them as the wind sports among the leaves."
"But I don't speak in jest, Monsieur de St. Luc. I'm not in command
here. I'm merely a spokesman a herald or a messenger, in whichever way
you should choose to define me. Captain James Colden, a gallant young
officer of Philadelphia, is our leader, but, in this instance, I don't
feel the need of consulting him.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63