At that moment, the keen, quick glance of the lieutenant beheld the rapid bounds of the savage, as he made for the cover of the neighboring thicket. His orders were instantly given. A dozen bodies instantly sprang forward in pursuit--a dozen matchlocks were lifted in deadly aim, but the lithe savage doubling like a hare, bounding forward, now squat, and seeming to fly along the surface of the ground like a lapwing, stealthy in every movement as a cat, as swift and agile,--succeeded in gaining the woods, though the carbines rang with their volley, and, throwing down their weapons, a score of the light-limbed Frenchmen started in the chase. A wild warwhoop followed the discharge of the pieces, declaring equally the defiance and disdain of the savage. The pursuit was idle, as a few seconds enabled him to find shelter in a morass, which the inexperienced Europeans knew not how to penetrate. Alphonse D'Erlach recalled his men from pursuit, fearing lest they might fall into an ambush, in which, wasting their ammunition against invisible enemies, they would only incur the risk of total destruction. He prepared to confront the stranger, whose first appearance had been productive of such a startling occurrence. Le Genré, meanwhile, had paused in his progress. He no longer rushed forward like a maniac; but satisfied with having given the impulse to the pursuit of Oolenoe, and apparently conscious of how much was startling in his appearance, he now stood beside a pine which overhung the path, one hand resting against the mighty shaft, as if from fatigue, while from the other his _couteau de chasse_ now drooped, its sharp extremity pointing to the ground. His appearance thus indicated a pacific disposition; but remembering his ancient treacheries only, and suspicious of his relations with Oolenoe, D'Erlach approached him with caution, as if to the encounter with an enemy. As he drew nigh, followed by his band, Le Genré addressed them with mournful accents. "Is there no faith for me hereafter, _mes amis_? Am I forever cut off from the communion with my comrades? Shall there be no fellowship between us, D'Erlach? Shall we not forget the past--shall I not be forgiven for my crime, even when I repent it in bitterness and bloody tears. Behold, my brother--I proffer you the last assurance." These words were accompanied by a sign, that of the mystic brotherhood--the ancient masons--which none but a few of the party beheld or comprehended. The weapon of Alphonse D'Erlach was dropped instantly, and his hand extended. He, too, belonged to the ancient order, and the security which was guaranteed by the exhibition of its token, on the part of the offender, served, when all other pleas would have failed, to secure him sympathy and protection.