"How are the good Dutch burghers at Albany?" asked the chevalier. "I
don't seek to penetrate any of your secrets. I merely make
conversation."
"I reveal nothing," replied Robert, "when I say they still barter with
success and enjoy the pleasant ways of commerce. I am not one to
underrate the merchant. More than the soldier they build up a nation."
"It's a large spirit that can put the trade of another before one's own,
because I am a soldier, and you, I judge, will become one if you are not
such now. Peace, Tandakora, it is doubtless the friends of Monsieur
Lennox who come!"
The gigantic Indian had risen suddenly and had thrust forward the good
French musket that he carried. Robert had never beheld a more sinister
figure. The lips were drawn back a little from his long white teeth and
his eyes were those of a hunter who sought to kill for the sake of
killing. But at the chiding words of St. Luc the tense muscles relaxed
and he lowered the weapon. Robert was compelled to notice anew the great
influence the French had acquired over the Indians, and he recognized it
with dread, knowing what it might portend.
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