Now it was Timmendiquas who replied.
"He is my prisoner," he said. "He is the most valiant of all the Kentuckians. We took him after a great struggle in which he overthrew many of our young men. I have brought him as a present to you at Detroit."
Did the words of Timmendiquas contain some subtle irony? De Peyster looked at him sharply, but the coppery face of the great chief expressed nothing. Then the diplomacy which he was compelled to practice incessantly with his red allies came to his aid.
"I accept the present," he replied, "because he is obviously a fine specimen of the genus rebel, and we may be able to put him to use. May I ask your name, young sir?"
"Ware—Henry Ware."
"Very well, Master Ware, since you are here with us, you can join in the little banquet that we have prepared, and see what a happy family the King's officers and the great chiefs make."
Now it was de Peyster who was ironical. The words of Henry about renegades and Wyoming and the slaying of women and children had stung him, but he would not show the sting to a boy; instead, he would let him see how small and weak the Kentuckians were, and how the King's men and the tribes would be able to encompass their complete destruction.
"Timmendiquas has given you to me as my prisoner," he said, "but for an hour or two you shall be my guest."
Henry bowed. He was not at all averse. His was an inquiring mind, and if de Peyster had anything of importance to show, he wished to see it.
"Lead the way, Catesby," said the commandant to a young officer, evidently an aide.