s lay. If Manitou prospered them,
they would come to the Quebec of the French, which beforetime had been
the Stadacona of old Indian tribes. That name, Quebec, was full of
significance to him. Standing upon its mighty rock, it was another
Gibraltar. It told him of the French power in North America, and he
associated it vaguely with young officers in brilliant uniforms,
powdered ladies, and all the splendor of an Old World court reproduced
in the New World. St. Luc had come from there, and with his handsome
face and figure and his gay and graceful manner he had typified the
Quebec of the chevaliers, which the grave and solid burghers of Albany
regarded with dread and aversion and yet with a strange sort of
attraction.

He did not deny to himself that he too felt the attraction. An unknown
kinship with Quebec, either in blood or imagination, was calling. He
wondered if he would see St. Luc there, but on reflection he decided
that it was impossible. The mission of the chevalier to the Hodenosaunee
would require a long absence. He might arrive in the vale of Onondaga
and have to wait many days before the fifty sachems should decide to
meet in council and hear him.

But Robert believed that if St. Luc should appear before the fifty he
would prove to be eloquent, and he would neglect no artifice of word and
manner to make the Hodenosaunee think the French power at Quebec
invincible. He would describe the great deeds of the French officers and
soldiers. He would tell them of that glittering court of Versailles, and
perhaps he would make them think their salvation depended upon an
alliance with France.

Robert was sorry for the moment that his mission was taking him to
Quebec and not to the vale of Onondaga, where Willet and he--and Tayoga
too--could appear before the sachems as friends true and tested, and
prove to them that the English were their good and natural allies. They
would recall again what Frontenac had done. They would dwell upon the
manner in which he had carried sword and fire among the Six Nations,
then the Five, and they would keep open the old wound that yet rankled.

It was a passing wish. The Iroquois would remain faithful to their
ancient allies, the English. The blood that Frontenac had shed would be
forever a barrier between the Long House and the Stadacona that was.
Once more Quebec filled his eye, and he gazed into the northeast where
the French capital lay upon its mighty and frowning rock. His cur