A ringing, joyous laugh responded to this question. “I am Charles Langlade,” he said, “descended from the first French colonists, and now an Indian chief. They are my people, and I belong to them,” and then he rapidly told such portions of his story as he deemed advisable.
“But if you so desired to serve France, why did you not join the regular Canadian government and army?” asked the Chevalier Levis.
“When you have been in Quebec six weeks, and have made acquaintance with those who at present govern Canada, you will have no need to ask me that question,” answered Charles. “For months I have been waiting for your coming. If Canada is to be saved, it will be by you and not by them. And now I am on my way to Quebec with some six hundred men of my tribe; and when I saw your ships coming up the St. Lawrence, I knew that at last the old country had remembered us, and so I put off to see if I could be of any service to you.”
“Indeed you can,” said Montcalm eagerly. “I am very anxious to get to Quebec myself as quickly as possible; but being utterly ignorant of the country and the mode of travelling, I am at a loss how to proceed.”
“If you are willing to entrust yourself to me, I think the journey can be accomplished without great difficulty. Alone you would find it almost impossible. It is the season of the year when we take our furs up to Quebec for sale: if you will accompany us, I will ensure your reaching the city in safety, and as rapidly as may be.”
“I should be very grateful,” said the General, “but I am not alone. I cannot well leave my daughter and her servant to land with the troops.”
“Your daughter!” exclaimed Charles; for wrapped in a great cloak, with the hood drawn down over her face to protect it from the wind, Mercèdes, standing behind the officers, had escaped observation. Now she stepped forward, threw back her hood, and showed a small white face, whiter and thinner than when she left France, and with eyes which looked preternaturally large and brilliant.
“I can travel,” she said; “I am not afraid either of the cold or of the fatigue. I am very strong.” The pure intonation of the gentle voice, the delicate refinement of the high-bred girl, were evident, even in these few simple words, and came home to Charles Langlade with peculiar force, unaccustomed as he was to civilised life.
“Mademoiselle wishes to travel by land to Quebec?” he said, looking at her and instinctively baring his head before her.
“Yes,” she answered. “If my father goes I must go too; I cannot be a hindrance to him.”