"He did nothing except bind me to that tree," she countered. "And tell me a number of quite fantastical stories. I don't like to be called stupid. I may have been foolish to have walked so far—”

“Foolish, aye. And stubborn and thick headed and plain ignorant, for good measure." The muscles in his throat were working hard. "And if you ever decide that you must defy common sense again then you won't have to worry about being called stupid, because you'll be dead or hurt so bad you won't give a damn." And he reached out his left arm and pulled her in to him, buried his face in her hair.

"Promise me," he said. "Promise me you won't do that again."

Chastised finally and thoroughly, Elizabeth nodded.

They stood like that for a moment, listening to each other breathe.

"Don't you want to know what he had to say?" she asked. "He gave me a message."

"Not now, not here," Nathaniel said, letting her go. "He may still be around."

* * *

There was a fallen tree, its dark, crumbling trunk sprouting great layers of pale mushrooms like a scaly beard. On it, Runs-from-Bears perched nonchalantly. Elizabeth was glad to see him, but he spoke directly to Nathaniel. It appeared that Jack Lingo's trail had been picked up and he was off the mountain, headed north.

"Robbie's on his tail, make sure he don't swing back," Bears concluded in English. Clearly for Elizabeth's benefit, although he still didn't look at her.

They were silent for the rest of the walk back to the clearing. Elizabeth noted that neither of them put their rifles out of hand, and she wondered if Runs-from-Bears had told the whole truth. Something occurred to her.

"What of Dutch Ton?" she asked. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"No sign of him."

Now that the first flush of agitation and fear was abated, Elizabeth began to shake. She pressed her palms hard together, spoke sternly to herself. Once at Robbie's, she went immediately into the caves and to her cot, and she sat there while she was slowly consumed by trembling. Nathaniel came to her.

"My face swells when I cry," she said. "It isn't a pretty sight."

"Pigheaded and vain, too," he noted dryly. But he sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She hiccuped a little and buried her face in his shirt.

"He might have killed me?"

He nodded.

"But he was so polite."

Nathaniel waited, saying nothing while her trembling slowly subsided.

"I will grant you that the things he had to say were . . . strange. But I never thought I was in real danger. He was so very apologetic about binding me."

"It was my fault for letting you go off on your own," he said grimly. "I should have warned you about him. Now." He wiped her cheeks with his hand. "Tell me what he had to say."

She drew in a wavering sigh. "He wants the Tory Gold," she said. "And he's convinced you've got it, hidden away. You and Hawkeye and Chingachgook. He described to me how he came upon it, although he cast himself in rather a different role in the story than Axel did in his telling of it."

Nathaniel grunted. "Aye, and so he would."

"He wears one of the coins around his neck. It is most unusual, I have never seen anything like it. A five—guinea gold piece, with George the Second in profile—”

“Got a good look at it, did you?" He looked vaguely intrigued. Elizabeth described it to him in detail, down to the hole Lingo had punched through the sovereign's temple in order to string the coin on a piece of rawhide.

"A thousand of them would be an overwhelming sight," she finished.

"And a conspicuous one," Nathaniel agreed. He was studying her hand, turning it this way and that in his own. "He had a message for me?"

"He said, "Tell your worthy husband and his father and grandfather that the next time I will take what pleases me until payment is forthcoming." But he said it in French. A rather different French than I was taught, but that was his meaning." She grimaced in her attempt to smile. "At the time I didn't think it through, but I suppose that was a threat against my person?"

"Or Hannah."

"Hannah," Elizabeth breathed. "Oh, no."

"It ain't a pleasing idea, that's true." He leaned back. "He's getting impatient. Wonder what's pushing him."

"He said he wants to go to France," Elizabeth volunteered.

Nathaniel pulled up short and saw that she was not joking. "He has never been out of the north country," he said. "What would he want in France?"

"To join the revolution, he said."

"Ha! The man never fought for anything or anyone but himself."

She said, "I told him you didn't have the gold. That if you had had such amounts of money you would have bought the mountain long ago."

He rewarded her with a grin and a hasty kiss. "And what did he think of that?"

"It made him angry," she admitted. "He didn't believe me. He wanted to know how it was that you had managed to pay Richard off if you didn't have any money. Monsieur Lingo is very well informed."

"And what explanation did you have for him?"

She found the strength to meet his eye and she drew in a big breath. "I told him that you had the very good sense to fall in love with a well—to—do spinster and marry well."