"Aye, Dagaeoga, it is! And do you not know him?"
"St. Luc! As sure as we live, Tayoga, it's St. Luc."
"Yes," said the hunter, who had not spoken hitherto. "It's St. Luc, and I could reach him from here with a rifle shot."
"But you must not! You must not fire upon him!" exclaimed Robert.
Willet laughed.
"I wasn't thinking of doing so," he said. "And now it's too late. St. Luc has gone."
The dark figure vanished from beside the trunk, and Robert saw only the lofty slope, and the whirling snow. He passed his hands before his eyes.
"Did we really see him?" he said.
"We beheld him alive and in the flesh," replied the hunter, "deep down in His Britannic Majesty's province of New York."
"What could have brought him here at such a time?"