The Sagamore touched my arm as though with awe and pity, and I lifted my head.

“Is this true, brother?” he asked gently.

“I do not know if it is,” I said, dazed.

“Then — it is the truth.”

“Why do you say that, Mayaro?”

“I know it, now. I suspected it when your eyes first fell on the Ghost-bear rearing on my breast. I thought I knew you, there at Major Lockwood’s house in Poundridge. It was your name, Loskiel, and your knowledge of your red brothers, that stirred my suspicions. And when I learned that Guy Johnson had sheltered you, then I was surer still.”

“Who, then, am I?” I asked, bewildered.