The young man, tall, handsome and firm of feature, although a captive, turned.
"Who called me?" he asked.
"It is I, Robert Lennox," said Robert. "I knew you in New York!"
"Aye, Mr. Lennox. I recognize you now. We meet again, after so long a time. I could have preferred the meeting to be elsewhere and under other circumstances, but it is something to know that you are alive."
They shook hands with great friendliness and the Frenchmen, who were guarding Charteris, waited patiently.
"May our next meeting be under brighter omens," said Robert.
"I think it will be," said Charteris confidently.
Then he went on. It was a long time before they were to see each other again, and the drama that was to bring them face to face once more was destined to be as thrilling as that at Ticonderoga.
The next night came heavy and dark, and Robert, who continued to be treated with singular forbearance, wandered toward Lake Champlain, which lay pale and shadowy under the thick dusk. No one stopped him. The sentinels seemed to have business elsewhere, and suddenly he remembered his old threat to escape. Hope returned to a mind that had been stunned for a time, and it came back vivid and strong. Then hope sank down again, when a figure issued from the dusk, and stood before him. It was St. Luc.
"Mr. Lennox," said the Chevalier, "what are you doing here?"