The crowd breathed together in one exclamation. "You have not been in this camp at all?" I felt her draw closer to me. "No, I have not been in this camp. You thought that I was here?" Her grasp on my hand tightened. "Then this is the Seneca camp. The battle is over," she said under her breath, and she turned to me. Her eyes were brave, but I knew from her trembling lips that she understood. "Where is my cousin?" I took both her hands in mine. "He died in my arms. He died trying to send me to you. He forgot self. It was the death of a brave man, madame." She stood and looked at me. She had forgotten the men around her. "Monsieur," she said, and this time her eyes were soft with tears, "my cousin was not so bad as he seemed. He could not help being what he was." "I understand." "Monsieur, you conquered the Senecas?" "Yes. We will forget it, madame." She looked over the heads of the lines of soldiers and grew white to the lips. I knew that she saw rows of scalps, and I could not save her from it. Yet I implored. "Do not think of it. It is all over, madame." Her eyes came back to me. "And Pierre? Is Pierre safe?" "Madame, he---- He died saving me." Her hands grasped me harder. "And Labarthe?" "I am all that is left, madame." Still she held to me. "Where is Singing Arrow?" I looked at Cadillac. He shook his head. "They found the Indian woman this morning," he said. "She was dead beside her husband. Do not grieve for her. Her face is more than happy; it is triumphant. My men called me to look. Will you see her now, madame?" But she could not answer. The hands that held mine began to chill, and I saw the brown throat quiver. I turned to Cadillac. "I have no tent. May I take madame to yours?" He placed all that he had at her service. He was moved, for he did it with scant phrase. "But one moment," he begged. "Montlivet, one word with your wife first. Madame, I beg you to listen. Will you look around you here?" She stopped. "I have looked, monsieur." "Madame, you see those Indians. They are war chiefs and picked braves. The brawn and brain of six tribes are collected here before you. Do you know what that means?" I saw her look at him gravely. "I should understand. I have lived in Indian camps, monsieur." He looked back at her with sudden admiration that crowded the calculation out of his eyes. "Madame!" he exclaimed. "We know your spirit and knowledge; we wish that you could teach us some new way to show you homage. But do you understand your husband's power? You have never seen him in the field. Look at these war chiefs. They are arrogant and untamed, but they follow your husband like parish-school children. It is marvelous, madame." She lifted her long deer's throat, and I felt her thrill. "Monsieur, I think that not even you can know half what I do of my husband's strength and power."