But
such thoughts vanished quickly. It could not be possible. The confidence
of the young Bostonnais came from ignorance.
Robert had seen de Mezy's face fall, and he was confirmed in the course
that he had chosen already.
"_Gusgaesata_," he said to Tayoga in Iroquois.
"Ah, the deer buttons!" the Onondaga said in English, then repeating it
in French.
"You will pardon us," said Robert carelessly to de Mezy, "but Tayoga,
who by the way is of the most ancient blood of the Onondagas, and I
often play a game of ours after dinner."
His manner was that of dismissal, and the red in de Mezy's cheeks again
turned to purple. Worst of all, the little dart of terror stabbed once
more at his heart. The youth might really be the dreaded marvel with the
sword. Such coolness in one so young at such a time could come only from
abnormal causes. Although he felt himself dismissed he refused to go
away and his satellites remained with him. They would see what the two
youths meant to do.
Tayoga took from a pocket in his deerskin tunic eight buttons about
three quarters of an inch in diameter and made of polished and shining
elk's horn, except one side which had been burned to a darker color.
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