"Hold, father," called the officer. "Will you not rest and eat? An escort, surely——"
The answer came from the shadows.
"I do not need an escort when I go upon my Father's business. I have rested all day and I have broken my fast."
"Peste!" ejaculated Le Moyne. "'Tis an uncomfortably holy person, Monsieur Ormerod."
"Do I not know it!" I retorted. "This is not the first time, either."
The Frenchman chuckled.
"So I gathered. But come, now, tell me truthfully what is your object; 'twill do you no good to deceive. My hands are bound, as you must know. This wood-ranging is a tedious business, and I have heard naught of politics since I left New Orleans. What bee is buzzing in Burnet's hat?"
I gave him a desperate look. He was a man of good countenance, kindly in reason, iron-willed, pugnacious, intelligent. So I read him. He lounged by the fire obviously bored. There were no others close by save Tawannears and Corlaer, and they were smoking and exchanging small-talk on their own account.
"The truth?" I said. "You shall have it—although 'tis not a story for general telling. You, Chevalier, I can see, are a gentleman."
He bowed courteously.