"Then listen. Here is a sharp hunting knife. See, I will stick it between the logs, so that you may cut your cords with it. To-night when you hear the owl hoot, free yourself and steal from the hut, if you can. Follow the hoot of the owl and I will be there with swift horses."
"And then?" asked the young pioneer.
"We will away, straight for your father's trading-post." Jean Bevoir paused a moment. "It may be I can persuade Pontiac to give you up. If I can, so much the better. But if not, remember what I have told you. If Pontiac asks you if you will go with me, say yes."
"I may be shot down if I try to escape in the dark."
"You must take the risk." Bevoir came closer. "They mean to burn you at the stake, to-morrow at noon,—I heard the talk an hour ago," he went on, in a low tone.
"I'll escape if I can," said Dave; and a moment later Jean Bevoir left him.
The young pioneer's thoughts were in a tumult. He did not believe in Bevoir, yet what the man said might possibly be true. He did not wish to be tortured by the Indians.
"I'd rather run my chances with Bevoir," he told himself. "I'll have the knife, and perhaps I can pick up a gun or a pistol. He may be sick of hiding himself, and he knows father will treat him kindly if he really does save me."
Dave had not seen Jacques Valette, and he fancied he was to meet Jean
Bevoir alone. It would be dark, and perhaps he could slip away from the
Frenchman as well as from the Indians. Anyway, the plan appeared to be
worth trying.
Pontiac had expected to remain at the village over night, but at sunset a messenger came for him to meet some other chiefs several miles away. He departed hastily, leaving Dave in charge of Foot-in-His-Mouth and the Wyandots.