A suspicion that had been forming in my mind became more definite. I began to believe that Marie de Sabrevois, in spite of what Ellen had told me, had resolved to rid herself, once and for all, of a person who might some day interfere dangerously with her plans.

“I hope you’re not forgetting,” I reminded Lanaudiere, “that we made you free of our house in Arundel only six months ago. Because of that, if for no other reason, I think I’m entitled to make a reasonable request and have it granted.”

“You are, indeed! You may be quite, quite certain that I shall immediately grant any request you make, if it’s within my power.”

“It’s not much that I’m asking. I’d like to write two letters, and give them to Nathaniel to forward for me, in case we’re held in Montreal all winter.”

His distress seemed sincere. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am. Your brother’s condition was such that we felt he should have medical attention, so we sent him to the encampment on the mainland.”

“So I can’t see him?”

“To my great regret—–”

“Yes,” I said. “Can I see Ellen Phipps?”

Lanaudiere shook his head. “Nothing would please me more, my dear Captain, than to say ‘Yes’ to everything you ask me; but Ellen, you see, is here no longer. She’s kind, and a good nurse; so when she offered to go with your brother to the mainland—–”

“I see,” I said. “You sent her away because you knew she’d spoken to me, didn’t you?”

“My dear Captain Merrill! She was kind enough to go because she’s a good nurse.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s completely clear.”

Lanaudiere smiled faintly, rose from his table, lifted the rear tent-flap and went out. As he went, I saw him motion to someone near at hand.

On the instant the opening was filled with the black faces of Sponge-belly and his six Indians. Their vermilion crests seemed bristling with savage eagerness.

They crowded through the opening, and the tent was filled with the sweetish, oily, furry odor of their bodies. One caught me by the wrist. I felt my other arm seized.

When they hurried me from the tent, Lanaudiere had already disappeared.

Two of the Indians held Verrieul by the arms, as I was held; but on Doc, lurching along between Sponge-belly and another red man, there was no restraint. Because of the bundles in the back of his smock, he looked like a pale and ancient bear humped over in fretful contemplation. Above his head his two guards exchanged triumphant glances, and from time to time Sponge-belly’s hand reached out, almost timidly, to touch the misshapen lumps Doc carried.