uch a thing to do, but it is here. I have told the Indians that I
represented the king; that I stood for government, protection. I have
called them here in the name of law. It is a new word to them, and I
have forced its meaning into their minds. And so they trust me. They
trust me in the name of this law I talk about. If I desert them now,
they will lapse into savagery of the worst kind. We shall have
anarchy. Blood will flow for years. No Frenchman's life will be safe.
I have the best men of six tribes here, and they will think themselves
deceived and pay us in red coin. 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. Yet they accomplished this more by diplomacy than
warfare. I knew that Onanguisse's desertion was well in tune with his
reputation and would not be combated.

I found Pierre, and told him about the woman. "You are to save her.
You are to get her away. It is for you to do. You are to think
nothing else, work for nothing else. You can do it. I depend on you
to do it. You are never to come to me again if you fail."

But he, too, looked away. "It cannot be done. The Indians will kill
her." He turned his head from me, and his voice was thick and grating.

I raged at