so much that they were not interested in what
they saw. The firelight illumined their sadly arrayed figures and
played over their worn and weary faces. Father Chaumonot extended his
hands toward them reassuringly; and they followed his every gesture
with questioning eyes. Corn Planter, the Seneca chief, began to
harangue. Since when had the Onondaga brother taken it upon himself to
meddle with the affairs of the Senecas? Was not the law written
plainly? Did the Onondaga wish to defy the law of their forefathers?
The prisoners were theirs by right of their cunning. Let the Senecas
proceed with their captives, as their villages were yet very far away,
and they had spent much time in loitering.

"We will buy," said Father Chaumonot, knowing the savage's cupidity.
"Two belts of wampum."

The Corn Planter made a negative sign.

"Ten beaver skins," said the priest.

"The daughters of Onontio are worth a thousand beaver skins."

"Well, then," said leather Chaumonot, reaching down and taking a musket
from the ground, "this with powder and ball to go with it."

The Corn Planter wavered. He took the gun and inspected it, turned it
over to his companions that they might also pass judgment upon it; and
they whispered among themselves for a space.

"Corn Planter accepts the thunderer for himself and ten beaver skins
for his brave warriors," and the barter was consummated.

It was now that madame saw four familiar faces beyond the fire. These
men, these men; even here, in the heart of the wilderness! With an odd
little smile she extended her hands, swayed, and became limp upon
Brother Jacques's arm.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE FLASH FROM THE SPURT OF FLAME

The presence of the women in the settlement brought about a magic
change. Beards were clipped, locks were trimmed, clothes overhauled,
and the needle and thread performed an almost forgotten office; the
jest was modified, and the meal hours were quiet and decorous. The
women were given a separate cabin in which they were to sleep, and
every one contributed something toward their comfort. Father Le
Mercier even went so far as to delay mass the first morning in order
that the women might be thoroughly rested. Thus, a grain of humor
entered into the lives of these grim men.

"Madame," said the Chevalier, "permit me to felicitate you upon your
extraordinary escape." This was said during the first morning.

Madame courtesied. Her innate mockery was alway