"And my men shall help you," said Willet.
They carried the body of Jumonville into the château and put it on a bench, while the servants, remarkably composed, used as they were to scenes of violence, began at once to array it for the grave.
"Come into the Seigneur's room," said Father Drouillard, and Robert and Willet followed him into the old man's chamber. M. de Chatillard lay silent and rigid. He, too, had gone on the longest of all journeys.
"His soul fled," said Father Drouillard, "when the battle outside was at its height, but his mind then was not here. It was far back in the past, three-quarters of a century since when Frontenac and Phipps fought before Quebec, and he was little more than a lad in the thick of the combat. I heard him say aloud: 'The Bostonnais are going. Quebec remains ours!' and in that happy moment his soul fled."
"A good ending," said Willet gravely, "and I, one of the Bostonnais, am far from grudging him that felicity. Can my men help you with the burial, Father? We remain here for the rest of the night at least."
"If you will," said Father Drouillard.
Zeb Crane touched Robert on the arm a little later.
"Tayoga has come back," he said.
"I didn't know he'd gone away," said Robert surprised.
"He pursued Tandakora into the dark. Mebbe he thought Tododaho was wrong and that the time for him to settle score with the Ojibway had re'lly come. Any way he wuz off after him like an arrer from the bow."