Not in vain was Tayoga as swift as a beam of light. Not in vain was that light figure made of wrought steel. Leaping to one side, he drew his own knife and struck with all his might at the heart of that huge, rushing figure. The blade went true, and so tremendous was the blow that Tandakora, falling in a heap, gave up his fierce and savage soul. "They run! They run!" cried Robert. "The whole French army is running!" It was true. The entire French force was pouring back toward the gates of the city, their leaders vainly trying to rally the soldiers. The skirmishers fell back with them. A figure, darting from a bush, turned to pull trigger on Robert, and then uttered a cry of terror. "A ghost! It is a ghost!" he exclaimed in French. But a second look told Achille Garay that it was no ghost. It may have been a miracle, but it was Robert Lennox come back in the flesh, and his finger returned to the trigger. Another was quicker. The hunter saw him. "That for you, Garay!" he cried, and sent a bullet through the spy's heart. Then, drawing the two lads with him, he rushed forward in pursuit. The confusion in the French army was increasing. Its defeat was fast becoming a rout, but some of the officers still strove to stay the panic. Robert saw one on a white horse gallop before a huddle of fleeing men. But the soldiers, swerving, ran on. A bullet struck the horse and he fell. The man leaped clear, but looked around in a dazed manner. Then a bullet struck him too, and he staggered. Robert with a cry rushed forward, and received into his arms the falling figure of St. Luc. He eased the Chevalier to the ground and rested his head upon his knee. "He isn't dead!" he exclaimed. "He's only shot through the shoulder!" "Now, this is in truth the hand of Providence," said Willet gravely, "when you are here in the height of a great battle to break the fall of your own uncle!" "My uncle!" exclaimed Robert. The Chevalier Raymond Louis de St. Luc smiled wanly. "Yes, my nephew," he said, "your own uncle, though wounded grievously, on this the saddest of all days for France, son of my dear, dead sister, Gabrielle." Then he fainted dead away from loss of blood, and the Canadian, Dubois, appearing suddenly, helped them to revive him. Robert hung over him with irrepressible anxiety. "The brother of my mother!" he exclaimed. "I always felt there was a powerful tie, a blood tie, uniting us! That was why he spared me so often! That was why he told me how to escape at Ticonderoga! He will not die, Dave? He will not die?" "No, he will not die," replied Willet. "The Marquis de Clermont can receive a greater wound than that, and yet live and flourish." "The Marquis de Clermont!" "Aye, the Chevalier de St. Luc is head of one of the greatest families of France and you're his next of kin." "And so I'm half a Frenchman!" "Aye, half a Frenchman, half an Englishman, and all an American." "And so I am!" said Robert.