He poked at me with his cane.
"Look you, Ormerod, there are three questions to be answered. First, to what extent are the French established on the Mississippi? I know they have built lately a post they call Vincennes on the River Ouabache,* but I have not been able to learn if they have progressed permanently below that.
* Wabash.
"Second, how far have the Spaniards extended their influence beyond the Mississippi? Concerning this we know practically nothing.
"Third, what is the power of the far Indian races beyond the Great River, and what is their disposition toward us? Something in answer to this question Tawannears has told me, but I must know more."
"You have taken me by surprise," I temporized, turning in my mind recollections of bygone venturings, the soft clutch of moccasins on the feet, the pervading wood-smell of the forest, the feathered whispering of arrow flights, the thrill of the war-whoop, exultation in a close shot.
Master Burnet pressed his advantage.
"Surely, I have taken you by surprise," he persisted. "But the fact is, dear lad, I have striven all Winter for a diversion to lift you out of yourself and this house which is overfull of memories for your present good. Tawannears fetched me what I was unable to conceive. But I would have you consider that it offers more than an opportunity to escape discomfort and ill-health. No Englishman hath traversed the lands across the Mississippi. French soldiers and Jesuits have seen somewhat of it, but never an Englishman. The man who sees it first, and brings home a true account, will deserve well of his people. He will have rendered a service to generations yet unborn."
I peered for the last time at the armchair that stood empty by the hearth. As always, the slim wraith that sat there raised black-coifed head in a mute gesture of affection. It seemed to me that she nodded in approval. The brown eyes welled with sudden tears.
"I'll go," I said.