olding out a splendid arm, as if calling
the vicomte's attention to it.

The vicomte twisted his shoulder and made a grimace. "I will kill you
as certainly as we stand here. It is written. And after you . . ."

D'Herouville could not piece together this broken sentence.

Four days later, the first of October, they came to the mission. The
lake of Onondaga lay glittering in the sunshine, surrounded by green
valleys, green hills, and crimsoning forests. As they arrived at the
palisade and fort, Du Puys, sighting them, fired a salute of welcome.
The echoes awoke, and hurried to the hills and back again with
thrilling sound. The deer lifted his lordly antlers and trembled; the
bear, his jaws dripping with purloined honey, flattened his ears
restlessly; the dozing panther opened his eyes, yellow and round as a
king's louis; and from the dead arms of what was once a kingly pine,
the eagle rose and described circles as he soared heavenward. The gaze
of the recent captives roved. Here were fruitful valley and hill;
pine, oak, beech, maple and birch; luscious grape and rosy apple; corn
and golden pumpkin. They saw where the beaver burrowed in his dams,
and in the golden shallows and emerald deeps of the lake caught
glimpses of trout, bass, salmon and pickerel. And what a picture met
their eyes as they entered the palisades: the black-robed priests, the
shabby uniforms of the soldiers and their quaint weapons and dented
helmets, the ragged garbs of the French gentlemen who had accompanied
the expedition, the painted Indian and his ever-inconsolable dog.

"Here might a man dwell in peace," said the Chevalier.

"Not with ambition for his bride," was the vicomte's observation.

The beginning of the end came on the seventh of October, after a famous
hunting day. A great fire was built on the shores of the lake. The
moon, crooked in shape and mellow as a fat pumpkin, hung low over the
forest crests. The water was golden and red: the moon and the flames.
The braves were holding a hunting dance in honor of the kill. There
were at this time about sixty warriors encamped around the mission.
The main body was at the Long House, far back among the hills. A weird
chanting broke the stillness of the night. The outer circle was
composed of the older braves and chieftains, the colonists, the
Jesuits, and the four unhappy men who were their guests. None of the
four took particular interest in the unique performance. Here