"Shucks! Ef he ain't the most——"
"Jest the slimmest, 'cutest, cussedest chap as ever you or me set eyes on, Pete," burst in Jim. "No wonder that 'ere Frenchie thar has dug his head into his hands. Reckon it makes him kind er faint to look at him."
"I said that we should need sailors. There they are. Monsieur Jules, you will be good enough to come aboard this canoe and bring your soldiers with you. My men, you have nothing to fear. We are merely about to change places with you."
At a nod from Steve, Jim and Mac dug their paddles into the water, and presently they were alongside the boat. Jim leaped aboard at once, took Jules Lapon by the shoulder with no very gentle hand, and lifted him to his feet as if he were a babe.
"Ef you ain't able to hold yerself up, why, I'll sling yer across to the canoe. Bah! Man, show some spirit. From all accounts yer can be bold and hard enough when things air right and you've got a poor prisoner to deal with. There's the cap'n thar as can tell a yarn about yer."
The exchange of boats took only a few minutes, and very soon the party of Hurons were seated in the one which had belonged to Jules, while that worthy, with his soldiers and his Indians, was crouching in the canoe. They were given a couple of paddles, and were ordered to row up stream.
"If we see you turn, or if you shout, we shall follow," said Steve. "It would be better for you to go quietly back to Quebec."
They watched as the Frenchman and his disconsolate crew paddled away, and soon they were round the bend of the island, prepared to attack the vessel which they hoped would take them to the sea.
"You have nothing to fear," said Steve to the sailors who still manned the oars, "and I promise to set you free as soon as we can get along without your services. How many are aboard the ship?"