Robert felt an extraordinary thrill of emotion. M. de Chatillard, seeing with the eyes of the past, had taken him for the Chevalier. But why? "It is not the Chevalier de St. Luc," said Father Drouillard, gently. "It is the lad, Robert Lennox, from the Province of New York." "But it is St. Luc!" insisted the old man. "The face is the same, the eyes are the same! Should I not know? I have known the Chevalier, and his father and grandfather before him." The priest signed to Robert, and he withdrew into the shadow of the room. Then Father Drouillard whispered into M. de Chatillard's ear, one of the servants gave him medicine from a glass, and presently he sank into quiet, seeming to be conscious no longer of the presence of the strangers. Willet, Robert and the others withdrew softly. Robert was still influenced by strong emotion. Did he look like St. Luc? And why? What was the tie between them? The question that had agitated him so often stirred him anew. "Very old men, when they come to their last hours, have many illusions," said Willet. "It may be so," said Robert, "but it was strange that he should take me for St. Luc." Willet was silent. Robert saw that as usual the hunter did not wish to make any explanations, but he felt once more that the time for the solution of his problem was not far away. He could afford to wait. "The Seigneur cannot live to know whether Quebec will fall," said Tayoga. "No," said Willet, "and it's just as well. His time runs out. His mind at the last will be filled with the old days when Frontenac held the town against the New Englanders." The rangers were disposed well about the house, and they also watched the landing. Tandakora and his men might come in canoes, stealing along in the shadow of the high cliffs, or they might creep through the fields and forest. Zeb Crane, who could see in the dark like an owl and who had already proved his great qualities as a scout and ranger, watched at the river, and Willet with Robert and Tayoga was on the land side. But they learned there was another chateau landing less than a quarter of a mile lower down, and Tandakora, coming on the river, might use that, and yet make his immediate approach by land. Willet stood by a grape arbor with Robert and the Onondaga, and watched with eye and ear. "Tandakora is sure to come," said the hunter. "It's just such a night as he loves. Little would he care whether he found English or French in the house; if not the English whom he expects, then the French, and dead men have nothing to say, nor dead women either. It may be, Tayoga, that you will have your chance to-night to settle your score with him." "I do not think so, Great Bear," replied the Onondaga. "The night is so dark that I cannot see Tododaho on his star, but no whisper from him reaches me. I think that when the time comes for the Ojibway and me to see which shall continue to live, Tododaho or the spirits in the air will give warning."