Des
Johnnes arose very smiling and bland, and bowed very low, and reminded
Colonel Sumter that he was in Chote--Old Town!

And what said Colonel Sumter? He spoke in the English, like a wolf might
talk--"Old Town--or New Town--I'll take _you_ to Charles Town!"

And what did the Baron Des Johnnes? Not a Cherokee; not bound by the
ever-sacred laws of the City of Refuge! Although surrounded by his
friends he struck not one blow for his freedom, as man to man. He
suffered himself to be arrested, single-handed, by this wolf of a
Colonel--Colonel Sumter--saying in gentle protest, "_Mais, M'sieur!_"

"_Mais, M'sieur!_" grimaced Willinawaugh, in mimicry. Then "_Mais
M'sieur!_" he threw up both hands. "_Mais, M'sieur!_" he shrieked in
harsh derision to the unresponsive skies.

Alexander knew that the Baron Des Johnnes had been taken to Charlestown
and examined, and although nothing could be proved against him, it had
been deemed expedient to ship him off to England. Perhaps the
authorities were of opinion that a man with such conversational
facilities as eight or ten languages had best be kept where "least said,
soonest mended."

But for the repeated harsh treatment that the Cherokees sustained from
the English settlers, the ingratiating arts of the French might have
failed to find so ready a response. Sedate of manner and of a grave cast
of mind themselves, the Indians could ill tolerate the levity, the
_gaiete de coeur_, of the French, whom they pronounced "light as a
feather, fickle as the wind, and deceitful as serpents."

With this intimation of Willinawaugh's reserves of irritability the
pioneers journeyed on, a trifle more ill at ease in mind, which was an
added hardship, since their physical sufferings were intensifying with
every long mile of continued effort. They began to wonder how they,
supposed to be French, would fare when they should meet other
Cherokees, perhaps more disposed than Willinawaugh to adhere to the
terms of their treaty to kill or make prisoner every Frenchman who
should venture into the Cherokee Nation, yet on the other hand perhaps
more competent by virtue of a familiarity with the language to detect
and resent the fact that they were not of the French nationality.
Already Willinawaugh had counseled that they should go further than
Chote, to ply their trade in furs, for Chote was dangerously near the
English fort for a Frenchman; one of the Tuckaleechee towns on the Canot
River was a prefera