"We should be willing to learn from any who can teach us," said Robert, "and such a willingness I claim is a chief merit of us English who are born in America, or Bostonnais, as you would call us."

Monsieur Jolivet once more spread out his hands in deprecation.

"We argue in vain," he said. "But now Lizette comes with the coffee, which is one of the most glorious triumphs of my inn. Does the young chief drink coffee?"

"Yes," replied Robert, "he learned at Albany all the white man's habits."

After the coffee they rose from the table and mine host prepared to show them to their room. The darkness had thickened meanwhile and glimpses of the river and the hills were faint. The little garden was enclosed by three walls of darkness, being lighted on the side where it joined the inn. Yet Robert thought he saw a shifting figure blacker than the shadows in which it moved.

Marie and Lizette took away the silver and china and Monsieur Jolivet went ahead to show them to their room. Then something whistled in the darkness, and an arrow buried to the head of the barb stood out in the rear wall of the inn. The three seized their rifles, but the darker shadow in the shadows was gone. Tayoga broke off the arrow level with the wall, and threw the shaft into the garden.

"It was Tandakora," he said, "seeking revenge. But since the arrow has sped wrong he will not loose another shaft tonight. If it had not been for his wounded shoulder the arrow might have gone true. It was a treacherous deed, worthy of the savage Ojibway."

"I hope the time will come," said Willet, "when I shall send a bullet not through Tandakora's shoulder, but through his heart. I don't love the shedding of blood, but the forest will be a better forest without him. Meanwhile, say nothing, lads. Monsieur Jolivet is coming back, but don't mention the arrow to him. He may find the head of it later on in the wall, and then he can wonder about it as much as he pleases."

Mine host bustled back. The foul and treacherous attempt, the breaking off of the arrow, and the comment upon it had taken less than a minute, and, good observer though he was, he noticed nothing unusual in the appearance of his guests. They carried their rifles in their hands, but many visitors to Montreal did the same, and as they were beautiful weapons they might well guard against their loss.

"Follow me, my Bostonnais," he said lightly. "I have the great room with three beds for you, and I trust that you have enjoyed the dinner."

"We have enjoyed it greatly, all of it, Monsieur Jolivet, and especially the dessert," replied Robert with meaning.

"Ah, the pastry," said Monsieur Jolivet, clasping his hands. "It is Marie who made it. It is the gift that she has, and I shall tell her of your praise."

But Robert was not thinking of the pastry. It was of the arrow that he spoke as dessert, although the excellent Monsieur Jolivet was destined never to know the hidden significance of his words. The room which he showed them with so much pride was a large apartment worthy of their praise, having a polished, shining floor of oak, with furs spread here and there upon it, and a low ceiling crossed with mighty beams also of oak. Robert looked at the windows, three in number, and he saw with satisfaction that they had heavy shutters. Monsieur Jolivet's glance followed his own, and he said:

"The shutters are for use in the winter, when the great colds come, and the fierce winds rage. But you, messieurs, who live so much in the forest, will, of course, prefer to keep them wide open tonight."

Robert murmured a.s.sent, but when Monsieur Jolivet departed, wishing them a polite good night, he looked at his comrades.

"We are used to air," said Willet, "and lots of it, but those shutters will be closed until morning. As Tayoga truly said, he will hardly dare another arrow, but we mustn't take any risk, however small."

Tayoga nodded approval, and drawing the shutters close, they fastened them. Then they undressed and lay down upon their beds, but each prepared to sleep with his rifle beside him.

"The catches on those shutters are good and strong," said Willet, "and Tandakora, even if he should come again, won't try to break them. It wouldn't suit the purposes of the French for a warrior of a tribe allied with them to be caught trying to murder English visitors, and, that being the case, I expect to go to sleep soon and sleep well."

He was as good as his word. Robert, who blew out the candle, soon heard his regular breathing. Tayoga, who was used to rooms, the Iroquois themselves having strong log houses, quickly followed him in slumber, but young Lennox was not able to compose his nerves for a little while.

He was perhaps more sensitive and imaginative than his comrades, or the close air may have kept him awake. He could not help feeling that Tandakora was outside trying the fastenings of the shutters, and at last rising, he walked on tiptoe and listened at every window in turn. He heard nothing without but the breathing of the gentle wind, and then, knowing that it had been only his vivid fancy, he went back to bed and slept soundly.

"Wake up, Robert, and breathe this air! After our having been sealed up in a room all night the breeze is heavenly."

The shutters were thrown back, and the hunter and Tayoga, fully dressed, stood by the windows. The air, fresh, life-giving, coming over the great forests and the mighty river, was pouring into the room in streams, and Tayoga and Willet were facing it, in order that they might receive it straight upon their foreheads. Robert joined them, and soon felt as if he had been created anew and stronger.

"I'll never again sleep in a room closed tight and hard," said Willet, "not even to protect my life. I've roamed the free woods for so many years that I think another such experience would make me choke to death."

"I'm not in love with it myself," said Robert, "but it makes the world outside look all the grander and all the more beautiful."

At their wish breakfast was served for them by Monsieur Jolivet in the garden, Willet insisting that for the present he could not stay any longer in a house. Robert from his seat could see the end of the broken barb embedded in the wall, but neither mine host nor any of his a.s.sistants had yet noticed it.

Monsieur Jolivet was pleased that they should have such a brilliant day to begin their journey to Quebec, and he was telling them where they could sell their canoe and buy a good boat when Louis de Galisonniere appeared in the garden and presented them the compliments of the morning. He looked so trim and so gay that he brought with him a cheerful breeze, and the three felt the effect of it, although they wondered at the nature of his errand there. Robert invited him to join them at breakfast and he accepted their invitation, taking a roll and b.u.t.ter and a cup of coffee after the French custom which even then prevailed.

"I see that you've slept well," he said, "and that the inn of Monsieur Jolivet is as kind to the Bostonnais as it is to the French and the Canadians."

"Its hospitality to us could be no finer if we came from Paris itself, instead of the Province of New York," said Robert. "Our stay in Canada has been short, but most interesting."

Monsieur Jolivet had gone into the inn, and de Galisonniere said:

"Montreal is a fine town and I would not depreciate it in the presence of our host, but as I have told you before, our Quebec to which you are going is the true glory of New France. My knowledge that you're going there is the reason why I've come here this morning."

"How is that?" asked Robert

"Because I received orders last night to depart in the _Frontenac_ for Quebec, a journey that I undertake with great willingness, since it takes me where I wish to go. I have also the authority of the commandant to ask your presence as guests for the voyage on board my vessel. Until we French and you English actually go to war we might as well be friends."

Robert glanced at Tayoga and Willet and they nodded slightly. Then he replied warmly that they accepted the invitation and would go with much pleasure in the _Frontenac_. After breakfast they sold the canoe and embarked presently, having first said goodby to Monsieur Jolivet, who with his best napkin, waved them farewell.

Robert was more than pleased at their good luck. The _Frontenac_ offered them a better pa.s.sage than any boat they could buy and have to row perhaps with their own strength. Moreover, they were already on excellent terms with de Galisonniere, and it would be a good thing for them to arrive at Quebec in his company.

A strong wind was blowing, and the _Frontenac_ moved swiftly over the surface of the great stream which was like liquid green gla.s.s that morning. The three had put their weapons, including Tayoga's bow and arrows, in the cabin, and they sat on deck with de Galisonniere, who looked with pride at the magnificent river which was the very artery of life in the New France of the chevaliers. Robert's own heart throbbed as he knew that this last stage of their journey would take them to famous Quebec.

"If the St. Lawrence didn't freeze over for such a long period," said de Galisonniere, "this region would become in time the greatest empire in the world."

"But isn't that a huge 'if'?" asked Robert, laughing.

De Galisonniere smiled.

"It is," he said, "but New France is the chief jewel in the French crown, nevertheless. In time the vice-regal court at Quebec will rule an empire greater than that of France itself. Think of the huge lakes, the great rivers, the illimitable forests, beyond them the plains over which the buffalo herds roam in millions, and beyond them, so they say, range on range of mountains and forests without end."

"I have been thinking of them," said Robert, "but I've been thinking of them in a British way."

De Galisonniere laughed again and then grew serious.

"It's natural," he said, "that you should think of them in a British way, while I think of them in a French way. I suppose we shall have war, Mr. Lennox, but doesn't it seem strange that England and France should fight about American territory, when there's so much of it? Here's a continent that civilized man cannot occupy for many generations. Both England and France could be hidden away in its forests, and it would take explorers to find them, and yet we must fight over a claim to regions that we cannot occupy."

Robert decided then that he liked young de Galisonniere very much. Some such thoughts had been pa.s.sing through his own mind, and he was glad that he could talk frankly about the coming war with one who would be on the other side, one who would be an official but not a personal enemy.

As the _Frontenac_ slid on through the tumbling green current they talked earnestly. Willet, sitting near, glanced at them occasionally, but he too had plenty of thoughts of his own, while Tayoga, saying nothing, gazed at the high green southern sh.o.r.e. This, so the old men said, had once been the land of the Mohawks, one of the great nations of the Hodenosaunee, and now the children of Onontio, who had come with firearms against bows and arrows, spoke of it as theirs since Manitou first made the land rise from the deep. Tayoga was silent but he had many thoughts, and they were thoughts that came to him often and stayed long.

"De Courcelles and Jumonville, whom you met in the forest," said de Galisonniere, at length, "arrived in Montreal early last night, and after a stay of only two or three hours sailed in a schooner for Quebec."

"Did you see them at all while they were in Montreal?" asked Robert, who seemed to detect significance in the young Frenchman's tone.

"Only for a few moments," replied de Galisonniere, and Robert, judging that he wished to avoid more talk on the subject, made no further reference to de Courcelles. But the knowledge that he had gone on ahead to Quebec troubled him. De Courcelles was not so young and frank as de Galisonniere, nor did he seem to have the fine soul and chivalric spirit of St. Luc. Robert felt the three had cause to fear him.

But the journey down the St. Lawrence continued without serious delay, although the wind failed now and then and they took to the oars. It was a voyage full of variety and interest to Robert. He slept that night with his comrades on the deck of the _Frontenac_, and the next morning he found a strong wind again blowing.

In time they approached Quebec, and saw the increasing signs of population that betokened proximity to what was then in the eyes of North Americans a great capital. On either sh.o.r.e they saw the manor houses of the seigneurs, solid stone structures, low, steep of roof and gabled, with cl.u.s.tering outhouses, and often a stone mill near by. The churches also increased in numbers, and at one point the _Frontenac_ stopped and took on a priest, a tall strongly built man of middle years, with a firm face. De Galisonniere introduced him as Father Philibert Drouillard, and Robert felt his penetrating gaze upon his face. Then it shifted to Willet and Tayoga, resting long upon the Onondaga.

Robert, knowing the great power of the church in Canada, was curious about Father Drouillard, whom he knew at once to be no ordinary man. His lean ascetic face seemed to show the spirit that had marked Jogues and Goupil and those other early priests whom no danger nor Indian torture could daunt. But he was too polite to ask questions, feeling that time would bring him all the information he wanted, in which he was right, as de Galisonniere said later in the day when Father Drouillard was sitting in the little cabin out of hearing:

"A man of influence at Quebec. He has no parish, nor seems to wish any, but he is deep in the councils of the Church. It is known, too, that he corresponds with Rome, with the Holy Father himself, 'tis said, and there are men high in office at Quebec who wish that he might be called from New France back to the old land. Francois Bigot, the Intendant, does not love him, nor does anyone of the group about Bigot, neither his commissary general, Cadet, nor Pean, the Town Mayor of Quebec, nor Descheneaux, nor the others of that group. It's a gorgeous life that our own court circle leads at Quebec, and at the great Chateau Bigot, in the midst of its walks and flowers and gardens. I don't know why I'm telling you these things, Mr. Lennox! It seems they should be the very last to say to one's official enemy, but I can't feel that I'm doing anything wrong when I do tell them to you."