been a source of grief to me that the pirate eluded us
in the storm, but since you've shown me that we were really responsible
for her sinking I feel a lot better about it."

On the _Hawk_ Lanham told him what had been passing in the world.

"There's a great expedition out from England under that young general,
Wolfe, who distinguished himself at Louisbourg," he said. "It aims at
the taking of Quebec, and we're very hopeful. The rendezvous is
Louisbourg, on Cape Breton Island and army and navy, I suppose, are
already there. Your own Royal Americans will be in it, and what we lost
at Ticonderoga we propose to regain--and more--before Quebec. The _Hawk_
is bound for Louisbourg to join the fleet, but she puts in at Boston
first. If you choose to go on to Louisbourg with us you won't fare ill,
because the captain has taken a great fancy for you."

"I thank you much," said Robert, gratefully. "I'm almost tempted to join
the great expedition from Louisbourg into the St. Lawrence, but I feel
that I must leave the ship at Boston. I'm bound to hunt up Willet and
Tayoga, and we'll come by land. We'll meet you before the heights of
Quebec."

Everything seemed to favor the northward voyage of the _Hawk_. Good
winds drove her on, and Robert's heart leaped within him at the thought
that he would soon be back in his own country. Yet he made little
outward show of it. The gravity of mind and manner that he had acquired
on the island remained with him. Habits that he had formed there were
still very powerful. It was difficult for him to grow used to the
presence of other people, and at times he longed to go out on his peak
of observation, where he might sit alone for hours, with only the
rustling of the wind among the leaves in his ears. The sound of the
human voice was often strange and harsh, and now and then only his will
kept him from starting when he heard it, as one jumps at the snarl of a
wild animal in the bush.

But the friendship between him, Captain Whyte, Lieutenant Lanham and the
other young officers grew. People instinctively liked Robert Lennox.
Whether in his gay mood or his grave he had a charm of manner that few
could resist, and his story was so strange, so picturesque that it
invested him with compelling romance. He told all about his kidnapping
and his life upon the island, but he said nothing of Adrian Van Zoon. He
let it be thought that the motive of the slaver in seizing him was
merely to get a likely lad f