Everything took on strange and fantastic shapes, and colors became glaring and violent.

The moonlight, pouring down on the lake, made it a vast sea of crumbling silver, the mountains on the farther shores rose to twice or thrice their height, and the forests on the slopes and crests were an immense and unbroken curtain, black against the sky.
Five or six hundred yards away hovered the Indian fleet, the canoes and boats dark splotches upon the silver surface of the water.

The island upon which they intended to land was just beyond them, but knowing that they were out of rifle range they had paused to look at the victorious force, or as much of it as showed itself, and to send back the defiant yells of a defeated, but undaunted band.
Robert clearly saw St.Luc again, standing up in his boat, and apparently giving orders to the fleet, using his small sword, as a conductor wields a baton, though the moonlight seemed to flash in fire along the blade as he pointed it here and there.

He beheld something fierce and unconquerable in the man's attitude and manner.

He even imagined that he could see his face, and he knew that the eye was calm, despite defeat and loss.