aloof and moody during breakfast, and I searched for him with some
alarm.

I found him in the hollow where he slept at night; he would not sleep
near the rest of us, saying that we disturbed him with our snoring. He
was on his back, his gaze on the tree-tops, and he was frowning heavily.

I broke through the bushes. "You are ill!"

He jumped to his feet. "No, no, monsieur! Ill only in mind.
Monsieur, I have failed you."

I had never seen his aplomb so shaken. "Why were you lying on the
ground?"

"To find out whether I could see again what I saw last night. Do you
see that balsam,--the one with the forked top? Monsieur, I saw an
Indian's face in that tree last night."

I took his hands, which were cold. "Now tell me."

He drew his hands away. "I am often awake in the night. Last night
the moon was clear. All at once I saw an Indian's face looking out
from that tree."

"And you did not call me!"

"Monsieur, I thought it must be fancy. I have troubled dreams. I
often--since my capture--think I see an Indian, and it proves to be
nothing but a bush. So I distrust my eyes, especially at night. Then