“I thank you, sir, for your kindness, but I am ready, at this moment, to proceed to the consideration of his excellency’s letter.”
This slightly disconcerted M. de St. Pierre, who had some inward contempt for the youth of the ambassador sent by the governor.
“I shall have to send for my second in command, Captain Reparti,” he said, “who left us this morning to visit another post.”
“I hope, monsieur, that you will send for him at your earliest convenience, for my orders are peremptory—to deliver the letter and return with an answer at the earliest possible moment.”
“If I send this evening,” remarked M. de St. Pierre, “my messenger might lose his way in the darkness.”
“If you will kindly give me the directions, sir,” answered George, with much politeness, “I have men in my party who can make the journey by night, although they have never traversed this part of the country before.”
“I will send, however, immediately,” said M. de St. Pierre, coloring slightly, and comprehending that he was dealing with a natural diplomatist.
After a very agreeable dinner George was shown to his room, where Lance, as his servant, awaited him. Scarcely was the door closed before George began, anxiously:
“Where are the Indians?”
“In the barrack-room, sir. The French soldiers are promising them guns and powder and shot and hatchets, and pouring liquor down all of them except Tanacharison and Black Bear, who won’t drink, and who mean to be true to us. But, sir, you can’t blame the poor devils for taking what the French give them.”