He tried to draw me aside, but I resisted him stolidly.  I eyed him searchingly, angrily, but he could not look at me.  “Listen,” he begged, and he spoke very slowly and tapped my arm.  Yet I was understanding him perfectly.  “Listen, Montlivet, there is no mistake.  When Father Carheil told me that there were Hurons in Starling’s escort I sent Ottawas in pursuit.  I have heard from them.  Starling’s party went east till they were out of sight of the garrison.  Then they turned west and joined Pemaou.  It was by Starling’s direction.  The Ottawas would have objected, for I had ordered them to travel east, but they were overpowered.  It is supposed, since they traveled in this direction, that they went to the Seneca camp.  But that may not be true.”

“It is undoubtedly true,” I said.

Cadillac pushed me out of earshot of the men.  “Montlivet, you cannot understand.  Listen to me.”

I tried to shake him away.  “There is nothing more that you can say.  Monsieur, unhand me.  My wife left with Starling.  She is undoubtedly in the Seneca camp.  Pemaou and Starling are in league, and they go to the Senecas because they hope to make terms on behalf of the English with the western tribes.  I understand.”

Cadillac looked at me fully, and I realized dully that his face grew white as he examined mine.  “Go away.  Go at once,” he urged.

“Leave things here to me.”

I nodded and stumbled away.  Stretched tarpaulins made my tent, and I crawled under them, drew down the folds, and was alone.  The noise of the camp muttered around me like a wind.

And then I lay alone with myself and my beliefs, and fought to know where my feet were set.  There was tempest without my tent, but not within.  In the valleys where I struggled there was great quiet.  And at last I found certainty.

In an hour I went to find Cadillac.  He would not let me speak.

“Montlivet, we will stop this attack—­if we can hold the Indians.”

“It is not possible to hold the Indians.  They are blood drunk.  We should have general massacre.”

“Then you must leave.  You can go with Onanguisse.  He says that if his adopted daughter is with the Senecas he will not join in the attack.”

“No, I shall not go with him.  I shall lead the allied force of Indians, monsieur.”

Cadillac looked me over.  I saw, with my own face cold, that his was not steady.

“No victory is worth that,” I heard him say, and I listened as if he spoke of another’s sorrow.  “It is not necessary, Montlivet.”

“It is absolutely necessary.  The war chiefs are jealous.  Without a leader they will fall on one another and we shall have sickening massacre.  You cannot lead them, for you do not speak their language.”

“But even granting that”——­