"Had I come from it?"
"No; I was going to it."
He seemed surprised.
"By the road to the Lake of the Woods?"
"No; by the Winnipeg River," I replied.
"Where was the Expedition?"
I could not answer this question; but I concluded it could not be very far from the Lake of the Woods.
"Was it a large force?"
I told him exactly, setting the limits as low as possible, not to deter him from fighting if such was his intention. The question uppermost in his mind was one of which he did not speak, and he deserves the credit of his silence. Amnesty or no amnesty was at that moment a matter of very grave import to the French half-breeds, and to none so much as to their leader. Yet he never asked if that pardon was an event on which he could calculate. He did not even allude to it at all.
At one time, when speaking of the efforts he had made for the advantage of his country, he grew very excited, walking hastily up and down the room with theatrical attitudes and declamation, which he evidently fancied had the effect of imposing on his listener; but, alas! for the vanity of man, it only made him appear ridiculous; the mocassins sadly marred the exhibition of presidential power.