I was impatient. "What has happened since the Senecas came?"
He made a tired grimace. "Principally that I have not slept," he yawned.
"You have seen no signs of an uprising?"
He put his head between his hands, and I saw that he was indeed weary. "There are never signs till the uprising is on us. You know that. I have done what I could. The guards are trebled, and we sleep on our swords. Montlivet, tell me. What have you been doing in the west?"
I had expected him to finesse to this question. I liked it that he gave it to me with a naked blade.
"I have been forming an Indian league," I answered bluntly.
He nodded. "I know. There have been rumors. Then I knew what you did with the St. Lawrence tribes last year. Why did you not tell me when you went through here last spring?"
I shook my head. "I wished to prove myself. It was an experiment.
Then I desired a free hand."
"You did not wish my help?"
"I wished to test the ground without entangling you. If I failed,—why, I was nothing but a fur trader. There had been no talk, no explanations, nothing. A trader went west; he returned. That would end it."