rquis of France--when I die," said St. Luc.

"No! No!" exclaimed Robert. "You'll live as long as I will! Why, you're
only a young man!"

"Twenty-nine," said St. Luc. "Gabrielle was twelve years older than I
am. You are more a younger brother than a nephew to me, Robert."

"But I will never become a Marquis of France," said Robert. "I am
American, English to the core. I have fought against France, though I do
not hate her. I cannot go to France, nor even to England. I must stay in
the country in which I was born, and in which my father was born."

"Spoken well," said Willet. "It was what I wanted to hear you say. The
Chevalier will return to France. He will marry and have children of his
own. Haven't we heard him sing often about the girl he left on the
bridge of Avignon? The next Marquis of Clermont will be his son and not
his nephew."

Which came to pass, as Willet predicted.

Robert stayed long that night by the pallet of his uncle, to whom the
English gave the best of attention, respecting the worth of a wounded
prisoner so well known for his bravery, skill and lofty character. St.
Luc finally fell asleep, and, going outside, Robert found Tayoga
awaiting him. When he told him all the strange and wonderful story that
he had heard inside the tent, the Onondaga said:

"I suppose that Dagaeoga, being a great man, will go to Europe and
forget us here."

"Never!" exclaimed Robert. "My home is in America. All I know is
America, and I'd be out of place in any other country."

And then he added whimsically:

"I couldn't go so far away from the Hodenosaunee."

"Dagaeoga might go far and yet never come to a nation greater than the
great League," said Tayoga, with deep conviction.

"That's true, Tayoga. How stands the battle? I had almost forgotten it
in the amazing tide of my own fortunes."

"General Wolfe is dead, but his spirit lives after him. We are
victorious at all points. The French have fled into Quebec, and they yet
have an army much more numerous than ours, if they get it all together.
But Montcalm was wounded and they say he is dying. The soul has gone out
of them. I think Quebec will be yielded very soon."

And surrendered it was a few days later, but the victors soon found that
the city they had won with so much daring would have to be defended with
the utmost courage and pertinacity. St. Luc, fast recovering from his
wound, was sent a prisoner to New York, together with De Galissonniere,
who had b