"At the least," said Ta-wan-ne-ars with a smile, "we shall have solved the riddle of the Doom Trail."
"And what will that avail us?" I countered. "Joncaire told me all I sought to know of Jagara—but he told it to a dead man."
"Not yet dead, brother," Ta-wan-ne-ars corrected me gently. "We have still a long way to go—and we have our search."
"Which is like to lead us into the hands of ——," I said rudely.
But de Veulle and the three strange Frenchmen walked up at that moment, and Ta-wan-ne-ars was spared the necessity of an answer.
"'Tis well," de Veulle was saying. "We will rest the night, then. I'll lodge my prisoners in the stockade."
"And there is naught else!" asked one of the others.
"The letter to Père Hyacinthe—don't forget that."
Whereat they all four laughed with a kind of sinister mystery and cast glances of amusement at us.
"I would I might see the Moon Feast," said another.