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- Стр. 91/257
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"
Such
as
he
may
care
but
little
for
house
or
shelter
,
and
night
dew
can
never
wet
a
body
that
passes
its
days
in
the
water
,
"
returned
the
scout
,
grasping
the
shoulder
of
Heyward
with
such
convulsive
strength
as
to
make
the
young
soldier
painfully
sensible
how
much
superstitious
terror
had
got
the
mastery
of
a
man
usually
so
dauntless
.
"
By
heaven
!
there
is
a
human
form
,
and
it
approaches
!
Stand
to
your
arms
,
my
friends
;
for
we
know
not
whom
we
encounter
.
"
"
Qui
vive
?
"
demanded
a
stern
,
quick
voice
,
which
sounded
like
a
challenge
from
another
world
,
issuing
out
of
that
solitary
and
solemn
place
.
"
What
says
it
?
"
whispered
the
scout
;
"
it
speaks
neither
Indian
nor
English
!
"
"
Qui
vive
?
"
repeated
the
same
voice
,
which
was
quickly
followed
by
the
rattling
of
arms
,
and
a
menacing
attitude
.
"
France
!
"
cried
Heyward
,
advancing
from
the
shadow
of
the
trees
to
the
shore
of
the
pond
,
within
a
few
yards
of
the
sentinel
.
"
D'où
venez-vous
--
où
allez-vous
,
d'aussi
bonne
heure
?
"
demanded
the
grenadier
,
in
the
language
and
with
the
accent
of
a
man
from
old
France
.
"
Je
viens
de
là
découverte
,
et
je
vais
me
coucher
.
"
"
Etes-vous
officier
du
roi
?
"
"
Sans
doute
,
mon
camarade
;
me
prends-tu
pour
un
provincial
!
Je
suis
capitaine
de
chasseurs
(
Heyward
well
knew
that
the
other
was
of
a
regiment
in
the
line
)
;
j'
ai
ici
,
avec
moi
,
les
filles
du
commandant
de
là
fortification
.
