“Menard stood ... smiling with the same look of scorn he had worn ... when they led him to the torture.”
“Courage, Mademoiselle,” he said close to her ear. “It is all right.”
“What will they do, M’sieu?”
“Nothing. I have won. Wait––the Big Throat is speaking.”
One by one the warriors fell back to their seats. Some were muttering, some were smiling; but all were subdued. The Big Throat’s voice was calm and firm.
“The Big Buffalo has spoken well. The word of a fool is not the word of the Long House. The White Chief comes to give us the voice of Onontio, and we will listen.”
He turned toward Menard, and then resumed his seat.
The Captain rose, and looked about the circle. The chiefs were motionless. Even the Long Arrow, now that his outburst was past, closed his lips over the stem of his pipe and gazed at the smoke. Father Claude drew forward the bundle and opened it, the maid helping. Some of the boys behind them crowded closer to see the presents. 258