"The Chevalier de St. Luc has been here for some time," he said, "waiting until the fifty sachems are ready to hear him in council, when he will speak for France. Mr. Willet and I are also waiting to speak for England. But the Chevalier de St. Luc and I are the best of friends, and I hope, Father Drouillard, that you, who have come also to uphold the cause of France, will not look upon me as an enemy, but as one, unfitting though he may be, who wishes to do what he can for his country."
Father Drouillard smiled again.
"Ah, my son," he said, "you are a good lad. You bore yourself well in Quebec, and I have naught against you, save that you are not of our race."
"And for that, reverend sir, you cannot blame me."
Father Drouillard smiled for the third time. It was not often that he smiled three times in one day, and again he reflected that this was a handsome and most winning lad.
"Peace, my son!" he said. "Protestant you are and Catholic am I, English you are and French am I, but no ill wind can ever blow between you and me. We are but little children in the hands of the Omnipotent and we can only await His decree."
Robert told Willet a little later that Father Drouillard had come, and the hunter looked very grave.
"Our task has doubled," he said. "Now we fight both St. Luc and Father
Drouillard, the army and the church."