“By the rocks, M’sieur,” interrupted Pierre, quickly, kneeling beside Philip.  “Listen.  It is best that I tell you.  You are a man, you will understand, without being told all.  From Churchill I brought news which it was necessary for me to tell Jeanne.  It was terrible news, and she is distressed under its weight.  Your honor will not allow you to inquire further, M’sieur.  I can tell you no more than this—­that it is a grief which belongs to but one person on earth—­herself.  I ask you to help me.  Be blind to her unhappiness, M’sieur.  Believe that it is the distress of the peril through which she has passed.  A little later I will tell you all, and you will understand.  But it is impossible now.  I confide this much in you—­I ask you this—­because—­”

Pierre’s eyes were half closed, and he looked as though unseeing over Philip’s head.

“I ask you this,” he repeated, softly, “because I have guessed—­ that you love her.”

A cry of joy burst from Philip’s lips.

“I do, Pierre—­I do—­I do—­”

“I have guessed it,” said Pierre.  “You will help me—­to save her!”

“Until death!”

“Then you will go with us to Fort o’ God, and from there you will go at once to your camp on Blind Indian Lake.”

Philip felt the sweat breaking out over his face.  He was still weak.  His voice was unnatural, and trembled.

“You know—­” he gasped.

“Yes, I know, M’sieur,” replied Pierre.  “I know that you are in charge there, and Jeanne knows.  We knew who you were before we appointed to meet you on the cliff.  You must return to your men.”

Philip was silent.  For the moment every hope was crushed within him.

He looked at Pierre.  The half-breed’s eyes were glowing, his haggard cheeks were flushed.

“And this is necessary?”

“It is absolutely necessary, M’sieur.”

“Then I will go.  But first, Pierre, I must know a little more.  I cannot go entirely blind.  Do they fear my men—­at Fort o’ God?”

“No, M’sieur.”

“One more question, Pierre.  Who is Lord Fitzhugh Lee?”

For an instant Pierre’s eyes widened.  They grew black, and burned with a strange, threatening fire.  He rose slowly to his feet, and placed both hands upon Philip’s shoulders.  For a full minute the two men stared into each other’s face.  Then Pierre spoke.  His voice was soft and low, scarcely above a murmur, but it was filled with something that struck a chill to Philip’s heart.

“I would kill you before I would answer that question, M’sieur,” he said.  “No other person has ever done for Jeanne and I what you have done.  We owe you more than we can ever repay.  Yet if you insist upon an answer to that question you make of me an enemy; if you breathe that name to Jeanne, you turn her away from you forever.”

Without another word he left the tent.