The two old hunters exchanged a smile. "Child, you are very much mistaken," said the grandfather. "Tom Mitchell means exactly what he says. He has no intention, no motive for laying any unworthy trap." "I am certain of it," added the son. Bright-eye had nothing to say to so positive an assertion. He silently bowed his head. "We have done all in our power to come here quickly, knowing we should meet you," went on François Berger; "we are only too happy to be in time." "In time to do what?" asked Oliver. "We will explain," said the elder of the two men; "when Tom Mitchell comes we shall receive him." "But that is our business?" cried Bright-eye. "I know the message was addressed to you," said his father; "I am well aware of it that it is our business, and, in fact, it is more proper it should be so. At all events we have decided that it is to be so, so that you will keep out of sight until the affair is finished." "But," said Bright-eye, with considerable hesitation, "supposing there was treachery?" "My son," sententiously observed the old man, "prudence is wise, but suspicion in certain cases is an insult. Think of that. Believe me when I say that your father and I know better what we are about than you do." "We shall certainly obey you," said Oliver, in the name of all. "We shall remain at a distance during the interview, and only interfere when called upon." "I thank you cordially," said the old man; "everything will go rightly, I promise you." And he waved his hand as if to dismiss them. The five young men rose, bowed respectfully to the two old men, and watched them as they walked slowly down to the banks of the river. About two gunshots distance from the camp, or thereabouts, was a rather thick wood, composed of oaks and gumtrees. The hunters entered the wood, and soon afterwards disappeared under the forest. Remaining alone, the old hunters lifted their Indian calumets and began to smoke, without exchanging one single word. This went on for about three-quarters of an hour--incessant smoking. Suddenly, François Berger let fall his pipe, fell flat on his face, put his ear to the ground, and listened. "They come," he said, rising. "I have heard them coming for some time," quietly replied the old grandfather. "How many?" "Not more than four." "Just as I expected. He has acted in perfect good faith," said the old man. "Then you are quite determined?" "Yes. The Indians are not in want of it, and I should not like to see the Yankees or English profit by it." "You are the master. You are the one to whom it belongs to a certain extent," said the son. "Yes; it is today my property. Besides, it should be kept up for the support of a great cause. Tom Mitchell is a very different man from what he appears," added the old man, gravely. "That, of course, I know." "Besides, I have another very strong motive for acting as I do, and that is the establishment, on the very spot I allude to, of the Yankee squatter."