"Falsehood!" cried the wounded man.
"We shall soon see," said the Canadian, coldly, and putting his fingers to his lips he uttered a shrill whistle.
A noise was heard and several men entered. These were Keen-hand, two servants of Clinton, and a prisoner—a man of wretched, mean, and ignoble appearance.
"This is your accomplice," said Bright-eye.
"I don't know him," replied the wounded man.
"You don't know me?" cried the other; "Really now, have you already forgotten poor Camotte?"
"You declare this man unknown to you?" said the judge. "Well, be it so. Now, fellow," to the man Camotte, "will you confess?"
"Caray, yes," said the prisoner, "anything you like."
"Speak then," responded Bright-eye: "we wait."
"Miserable wretch," asked the wounded man, "are you a traitor?"