Robert joined in the laugh, and then the men began to talk about the prospects of an attack upon Albany by the French and Indians, though all of them inclined to Robert's view that Montcalm would not try it.
"As you were a prisoner among them you ought to know something about their force, Robert," said Mr. Hardy.
"I had opportunities to observe," replied the lad, "and from what I saw, and from what I have since heard concerning our numbers I judge that we were at least four to one, perhaps more. But we threw away all our advantage when we came with bare breasts against their wooden wall and sharpened boughs."
"It is a painful thing to talk about and to think about, but Britain never gives up. She marches over her mistakes and failures to triumph, and we are bone of her bone. And you saw St. Luc!"
"Often, sir. In the battle and in the preparations for it he was the right arm of the Marquis de Montcalm. He is a master of forest war."
"He is all that, Robert, my lad. A strange, a most brilliant man, he is one of our most formidable enemies."
"But a gallant one, sir. He did nothing to prevent my escape. I feel that at Ticonderoga as well as elsewhere I am greatly in his debt."
"Undoubtedly he favors you. It does not surprise me."
Intense curiosity leaped up in Robert's heart once more. What was he to St. Luc! What was St. Luc to him! All these elderly men seemed to hold a secret that was hidden from him, and yet it concerned him most. His lips twitched and he was about to ask a question, but he reflected that, as always before, it would not be answered, it would be evaded, and he restrained his eager spirit. He knew that all the men liked him, that they had his good at heart, and that when the time came to speak they would speak. The words that had risen to his lips were unspoken.
Robert felt that his elders wanted to talk, that something they would rather not tell to the lads was in their minds, and meanwhile the brilliant sunshine and free air outside were calling to him and the Onondaga.