"This will be your prison, Steve," said the colonel, kindly, as the canoes made in for the wooden stage, "and I think that you could come to no more charming spot. I shall take you to see Montcalm, our military leader, and shall advise you to give him your promise not to attempt an escape. No. Do not refuse, I beg of you," he went on, seeing Steve pull a long face. "After all, you can but try it for a time, and can then formally declare your intention not to remain on parole any longer. It will make all the difference to you just now, for if you give your word, you will be allowed much liberty, and you will be therefore out in the open. On the other hand, you will be placed in confinement, which will be irksome, to say the least of it, and not the best thing for your health. Then, too, consider the circumstances. Miles and miles of forest now lie between you and your friends, and there is not the smallest chance of your getting down to them, or they up to you, for the country swarms with our backwoodsmen and Indians. Such an attempt would be sheer madness. You must wait, my lad, and, later, if your friends beat us back, perhaps it will be worth your while to withdraw your parole and make that attempt of which all prisoners dream. There, I am honest with you, am I not? If matters were in my hands I should aid you to escape." He laughed heartily, patted Steve on the back, and then held out his hand for our hero to help him ashore. For Steve had become indispensable to the wounded colonel, and was more like his son than anything else. "I suppose you are right, colonel," said the lad some little while later, when they were ascending the steep hill. "I will give my parole and try the arrangement for a time." A little later they were ushered into the presence of Montcalm, a soldier whose memory is still kept green, and who, though an enemy of ours, was undoubtedly one of the bravest and most honourable of foes Englishmen have ever met. He shook hands gaily with Steve, asked after his wound, and gripped his hand again when the colonel had told him how this prisoner had saved his life. "Monsieur," said Montcalm, swinging round and regarding Steve with shining eyes, "such an act of generosity should earn for you your freedom. But I dare not give it, and I must ask you to reconcile yourself to captivity here. You will give me your word?" "I will, general. For the present and until further notice I promise not to attempt an escape, and to obey any orders as to my behaviour which you may choose to give."