“Father,” said she unhesitatingly, “I have not come to be a hindrance, but a help and comfort to you; if you hold back because of me, your duty will suffer. I am young and strong, and Marthe is well now and will be much better off the ship than on it. Let us land with you and make our way to Quebec.”
The General looked down upon the brave little creature and smiled. “You do not know what you are proposing, my child; it would be a difficult journey for men, impossible for you: it is not to be thought of.”
“General, do you see that canoe paddling towards us? I have been watching it for some time; it is bearing down upon us, and, if I mistake not, is full of Indians,” said Chevalier Levis, and he handed the General his long glass.
“You are right; they are coming straight up the river. I wonder whether it means peace or war. If I only knew the temper of the tribes towards us!” said Montcalm.
“That remains for us to find out in the future,” answered the Chevalier; “but they are decidedly gaining upon us, and if I mistake not there is a white man amongst them. Do you see that fellow standing up with the skin round his shoulders toga fashion, and the fur cap on his head?”
He had hardly finished speaking when the canoe glided up alongside the Licorne, and the man they had been observing called out in French:
“We are friends.”
“It is well,” said Montcalm, stooping over the bulwarks; “you are welcome. Will you come on board?”
“Willingly,” answered Charles Langlade, for it was he; and easily, without the slightest apparent effort, he swung himself up the sides of the great ship and stood in their midst, such a noble specimen of humanity that the General, stepping forward, held out his hand, saying,—
“Who are you? and what are you doing amongst those savages?”