Henry had too much natural wisdom and experience to beat his head uselessly against bars. He would remain quiet, preserving the strength of both body and mind, until the time for action came. Meanwhile he was using his eyes. He saw some of the chiefs pass, always accompanied by white officers. But he saw officers alone, and now and then women, both red and white. He also saw the swarthy faces of woods runners, and among them, one whose face and figure were familiar, that same Pierre Louis Lajeunais, whom he had met outside the fort.
Lajeunais carried his rifle on one shoulder and a pack of furs on the other. It was a heavy pack, probably beaver skins, but he moved easily, and Henry saw that he was very strong. Henry regarded him thoughtfully. This man had been friendly, he had access to the fort, and he might be induced to give him aid. He did not see just then how Lajeunais could be of help to him, but he stored the idea in the back of his head, ready for use if there should be occasion.
He presently saw Timmendiquas go by with Colonel de Peyster on one side of him and Colonel Caldwell on the other. Henry smiled. Evidently they were paying assiduous court to the Wyandot, and well they might. Without the aid of the powerful Indian tribes the British at Detroit could do nothing. In a few moments they were gone and then the twilight began to come over the great western post. From his window Henry caught a view of a distant reach of the broad river, glittering gold in the western sun. It came ultimately from one great lake and would empty into another. Paul's words returned to him. Those mysterious and mighty great lakes! would he live to see them with his comrades? Once in his early captivity with the Indians he had wandered to the shores of the farthest and greatest of them all, and he remembered the awe with which he had looked upon the vast expanse of waters like the sea itself. He wished to go there again. Hundreds of stories and legends about the mighty chain had come from the Indians and this view of the river that flowed from the upper group stirred again all his old curiosity. Then he remembered his position and with a low laugh resumed his seat on the pine stool.
Yet he watched the advance of the night. It seemed that the vast wilderness was coming down on Detroit and would blot it out completely, fortress, soldiers, village and all. In a little while the darkness covered everything save a few flickering lights here and there. Henry sat at the window a while, gazing absently at the lights. But his mind was away with his comrades, Paul, Shif'less Sol, Long Jim and Silent Tom, the faithful four with whom he had passed through a world of dangers. Where were they now? He had no doubt that they were near Detroit. It was no idle boast that he made to Colonel de Peyster when he said they would help rescue him. He awaited the result with absolute confidence. He was in truth so lacking in nervous apprehension that when he lay down on the rude pallet he was asleep in two minutes.
He was awakened the next morning by Lieutenant Holderness who informed him that in the daytime, for the present at least, he would be allowed the liberty of the court. He could also eat outside.
"I'm grateful," said Henry. "I wish to thank Colonel de Peyster, or whoever the man may be who has given me this much liberty."
"It is Colonel de Peyster, of course," said the ruddy one.
But Henry shrewdly suspected that his modicum of liberty was due to Timmendiquas, or rather the fear of de Peyster that he would offend Timmendiquas, and weaken the league, if he ill treated the prisoner.
Henry went outside and bathed his face at a water barrel. Then at the invitation of Holderness he joined some soldiers and Canadian Frenchmen who were cooking breakfast together beside a great fire. They made room readily at the lieutenant's request and Henry began to eat. He noticed across the fire the brown face of Lajeunais, and he nodded in a friendly manner. Lajeunais nodded in return and his black eyes twinkled. Henry thought that he saw some significance in the twinkle, but when he looked again Lajeunais was busy with his own breakfast. Then the incident passed out of his mind and he quickly found himself on good terms with both soldiers and woods runners.
"You give your parole," said Lajeunais, "an' go North wiz me on the great huntin' an' trappin'. We will go North, North, North, beyon' the Great Lakes, an' to other lakes almost as great, a thousan', two thousan' miles beyon' the home of white men to trap the silver fox, the pine marten an' the other furs which bring much gold. Ah, le bon Dieu, but it is gran'! an' you have ze great figure an' ze great strength to stan' ze great cold. Then come wiz me. Ze great lakes an' woods of ze far North is better zan to fret your life out here in ze prison. You come?"