"You took her back to Fort Douglas. Did you hear anything special in the fort that night?"
"Nothing but that McDonell was likely to surrender. How did you know I was there?"
"Spies," he answered laconically. "The old voyageurs don't change masters often for nothing. If you hadn't been stuck off in the Mandane country, you'd have learned a bit of our methods. Her father used to favor the Nor'-Westers. What has changed him?"
"Seven Oaks changed him," I returned tersely.
"Aye! Aye! That was terrible," and his face darkened. "Terrible! Terrible! It will change many," and the rest of his talk was full of gloomy portents and forebodings of blame likely to fall upon him for the massacre; but I think history has cleared and justified Grant's part in that awful work. Suddenly he turned to me.
"There's pleasure in this ride for you. There's none for me. Will ye follow the boats alone and see that no harm comes to them?"
"Certainly," said I, and the warden wheeled his horse and galloped back towards Fort Douglas.
For an hour after he left, the trail was among the woods, and when I finally reached a clearing and could see the boats, there was cause enough for regret that the warden had gone. A great outcry came from the Sutherlands' boat and Louis Laplante was on his feet gesticulating excitedly and talking in loud tones to the rowers.
"Hullo, there!" I shouted, riding to the very water's edge and flourishing my pistol. "Stop your nonsense, there! What's wrong?"
"There's a French papist demands to have speech wi' ye," called Mr. Sutherland.