I T would have been impossible not to respond to his sparkling humor and good nature, even had the girl been desirous of doing otherwise. From the first I felt that she liked this reckless courtier, whose easy words and actions made me realize more deeply than ever my own heaviness of thought and wit.  
As he stood there now, bowing low before her, his clothing awry and his long hair in disorder from our fierce contest, she smiled upon him graciously, and extended a hand that he was prompt enough to accept and hold.
 
"Surely," she said mockingly, "no maid, even in the glorious days of chivalry, had ever more heroic figures to do battle for her honor. I accept the amende, Monsieur, and henceforth enroll you as knight at my court. Upon my word," and she looked about at the ? 87 ? desolate sand-heaps surrounding us, "'tis not much to boast of here; nor, in truth, is Dearborn greatly better."
 
She paused, drawing her hand gently from his grasp, and holding it out toward me.
 
"Yet, Captain," she continued, glancing at him archly over her shoulder, "I have likewise another knight, this wood ranger, who hath also won my deep regard and gratitude."
 
De Croix scowled, and twisted his short mustache nervously.
 
"You put a thorn beside every rose," he muttered. "'Twas your way in Montreal."
 
"A few hundred miles of travel do not greatly change one's nature. Either at Dearborn or Montreal, I am still Toinette. But, Messieurs, I have been told of a camp quite close at hand,—and yet you leave me here in the sand to famish while you quarrel."
 
The tone of her voice, while still full of coquetry, was urgent, and I think we both noted for the first time how white of face she was, and how wearily her eyes shone. The Frenchman, ever ready in such courtesies, was the first to respond by word and act.
 
"You are faint, Toinette," he cried, instantly forgetful of everything else, and springing forward to give her the aid of his arm. "I beg you lean upon me. I have been blind not to note your weakness before. 'Tis indeed not a long walk to our camp from ? 88 ? here,—yet, on my life, I know nothing of where it lies. Jordan," he added, speaking as if he were in command, "lead back along the path we came. Sacre! the old bear was gruff enough over the delay of our search; he will be savage now."
 
I know not how Jordan ever found his way back, for the sliding sand had already obliterated all evidences of former travel; but I walked sullenly beside him, leaving De Croix to minister to the needs of the girl as best he might. I felt so dull beside his ready tongue that, in spite of my real liking for the fellow, his presence angered me. 'Tis strange we should ever envy in others what we do not ourselves possess, ignoring those traits of character we have which they no less desire. So to me then it seemed altogether useless to contend for the heart of a woman,—such a woman, at least, as this laughing Toinette,—against the practised wiles of so gay and debonair a cavalier. I steeled my ears to the light badinage they continued to indulge in, and ploughed on through the heavy sand at Jordan's heels, in no mood for converse with any one.
 
We came upon the camp suddenly, and discovered Captain Wells pacing back and forth, his stern face dark with annoyance. At sight of me, his passion burst all restraint.
 
"By God, sir!" he ejaculated, "if you were a soldier of mine, I would teach you what it meant to ? 89 ? put us to such a wait as this! Know you not, Master Wayland, that the lives of helpless women and children may depend upon our haste? And you hold us here in idleness while you wander along the lake-shore like a moonstruck boy!"
 
Before I could answer these harsh words, the girl stepped lightly to my side, and standing there, her hand upon my arm, smiled back into his angry eyes. I do not think he had even perceived her presence until that moment; for he stopped perplexed.
 
"And am I not worth the saving, Monsieur le Capitaine," she questioned, pouting her lips, "that you should blame him so harshly for having stopped to rescue me?"
 
His harsh glance of angry resentment softened as he gazed upon her.
 
"Ah! was that it, then?" he asked, in gentler tones. "But who are you? Surely you are not unattended in this wilderness?"
 
"I am from Fort Dearborn," she answered, "and though only a girl, Monsieur, I have penetrated to the great West even farther than has Captain Wells."
 
"How know you my name?"
 
"Mrs. Heald told me she believed you would surely come when you learned of our plight at the Fort, it was for that she despatched the man Burns with the message,—and she described you so perfectly ? 90 ? that I knew at once who you must be. There are not so many white men travelling toward Dearborn now as to make mistake easy."
 
"And the Fort?" he asked, anxiously. "Is it still garrisoned, or have we come too late?"
 
"It was safely held two days ago," she answered, "although hundreds of savages in war-paint were then encamped without, and holding powwow before the gate. No attack had then been made, yet the officers talked among themselves of evacuating."
 
For a moment the stern soldier seemed to have forgotten her, his eyes fastened upon the western horizon.
 
"The fools!" he muttered to himself, seemingly unconscious that he spoke aloud; "yet if I can but reach there in time, my knowledge of Indian nature may accomplish much."
 
He turned quickly, with a sharp glance over his military force.
............