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Updated: June 13, 2025
The Long Arrow came over to inspect the thongs that held Menard's wrists; he had not forgotten his attack on his guards on the morning of the torture. And with a precaution that brought a half smile to the prisoner's face, he posted a stout warrior on each side, in addition to those before and behind.
For a time the noise ceased, but a little later, as he was spreading his blanket on the ground, it began again, and one of the transport men sang the opening strain of a ribald song. Menard strode over to the group so quickly that he took them by surprise. Colin was slipping something behind him, but he could not escape Menard's eye.
There will be excitement, perhaps, you may find it hard to avoid taking one side or the other. I must ask which side is to be yours." D'Orvilliers winced, and for a moment stood biting his lip; then he stepped forward and took both Menard's hands. "You shouldn't have asked that," he said. "God bless you, Menard! God bless you!" Menard paused in the door, and turned.
"You might get out and walk around," he said to the others. "I shall be gone only a few moments." Father Claude sat on the bank, lost in meditation. Danton and the maid walked together slowly up and down, beyond earshot from the priest. Since Menard's rebuke, both the lad and the maid had shown a slight trace of resentment.
While Menard stood at one side, he went to a bush that encroached a yard on the sacred ground and drew out a number of presents, with necessary articles and provisions to stay the soul on its long journey to the Happy Hunting-Ground. It was at the end of Menard's tongue to repeat Tegakwita's remark about hiding the weapons, but he held back and stood silently waiting. "Come," said the Indian.
The low voice stopped, and another murmur ran around the outer circles. The Hundred Skins had spoken boldly, and the Cayuga young men looked stern. The chief stepped slowly back and resumed his seat, and then, not before, did Menard's face relax. He looked about cautiously to see if he was observed, then settled back and gazed stolidly into the fire.
His coarse black hair was matted and tangled, and the eagle feathers that at the council had stood erect from his head now drooped, straggling, to one side. The maid had understood. The two men drew close to her on each side, and her hand rested, trembling, on Menard's arm. All three were thinking fast.
The maid came timidly up the bank, and touched Menard's arm. "What is it, Mademoiselle? You must not come here. It is not safe." "I want to speak to you, M'sieu. If I could have your knife for one moment " "What do you want of a knife, child? It is best that you " There was a fusillade from the brush, and his voice was lost in the uproar. "You must wait below, on the beach.
There was a stir at this, and then quiet, as the spectators settled back to hear the rest of Menard's speech. Here was a captive who spoke as boldly as their own chiefs, who commanded their attention as a present bearer from the White Chief.
The evening star shot out its white spears, glowing and radiant, long before the light had gone, or the purple and golden afterglow had faded into twilight. Menard's mind went back to another day, just such a glorious, shining June day as this had been, when he had sat not a hundred yards from this spot, waiting, as now, for the end. He looked at his fingers.
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