t only capture could
have prevented them from reaching the fort; but even supposing him to
believe that they were held by the Onondagas, he had neither the men
nor the authority to fight through the Cayuga lakes and hills to reach
them. As for the Governor's column, it would have its hands full
before marching ten leagues from La Famine. Had Menard been alone, he
would have made the attempt to escape, knowing from the start that the
chance was near to nothing, but glad of the opportunity at least to
die fighting. But with Mademoiselle to delay their progress, and to
suffer his fate if captured, it was different. As matters stood, she
was likely to be released with Father Claude, as soon as he should be
disposed of. And so his mind had settled on staying, and dying, if he
must, alone.

"I have not known whether to tell all," said Father Claude, after the
silence. "And yet it would seem that Mademoiselle may as well know the
truth now as later."

"You have not told me?" she said, with reproach in her voice. "Must I
always be a child to you, Father? If God has seen it best to place me
here, am I not to help bear the burden?"

"Mademoiselle is right, Father. Hold nothing back. Three stout hearts
are better than two."

The priest looked gravely at the fire.

"The word has gone out," he said. "The Long Arrow, by his energy and
his eloquence, but most of all because he had the courage to capture
the Big Buffalo in the enemy's country with but a score of braves, now
controls the village. To-morrow night the great council will begin.
The war chiefs of all the Cayuga and Onondaga and Oneida and Mohawk
villages will meet here and decide whether to take up the hatchet
against the white men. The Long Arrow well knows that his power will
last only until the greater chiefs come, and he will have his revenge
before his day wanes."

"When?" asked the Captain.

"To-morrow morning, M'sieu. The feasting and dancing will begin
to-night."

The maid was looking at the priest. "I do not understand," she said.
"What will he do?"

"He means me, Mademoiselle," said the Captain, quietly.

"Not--" she said, "not--"

"Yes," he replied. "They will bring us no food to-night. In the
morning they will come for me."

"Oh, M'sieu, they cannot! They--" She gazed at him, not heeding the
tears that suddenly came to her eyes and fell down upon her cheeks;
and, as she looked, she understood what was in his mind. "Why do you
not escape, M'sieu