T HOUGH I was never of hasty or violent temper, it was quite as well that I failed to gain a sight of De Croix as I passed the posts and the sentry clanged the gate behind me. The Frenchman's scurvy trick would have heated cooler blood than mine; nor was my spirit soothed by the harsh fall I suffered. But De Croix had not waited; nowhere along the bare sunlit parade was he visible. I saw nothing but a squad of grinning soldiers lounging beside the barracks, until Captain Wells, issuing from the guard-house door, caught sight of me and came forward.  
"Back, are you, Master Wayland?" he said gruffly, and 'twas easy to see he did not approve of my escapade. "I scarcely thought to see you here again with so full a head of hair, after I learned of ? 172 ? your mad wager. Providence must indeed take special care of fools. Have the redskins captured our French friend?"
 
"He entered a step in my advance."
 
A gleam of amusement played over his swarthy face.
 
"Ah, and so you let him win!" he exclaimed; "he, a mere voyager from the courts, unused to forest play! Such remissness deserves the guard-house, at the very least. Come, how happened it that this gay sprig outfooted you?"
 
"'Twas but a trick," I retorted, aroused by these contemptuous words, "and one I shall make him pay well for. But I pray you cut these bands and set me free."
 
I think he had not noticed them before; but now, as he quickly drew his knife across the deer-skin thongs, his whole expression changed.
 
"'Tis Indian tying," he said earnestly; "you have been in the hands of the savages?"
 
"Ay!" and the memory of it instantly brought back the recollection of the sacrifice that had won us our freedom. "There were three of us taken at daylight on the river bank, beyond the factory building. De Croix and I escaped through the efforts of one who is still a prisoner, and marked for torture."
 
Many were gathering about us by this time, anxious to learn whatever news I brought from without; ? 173 ? but it was Captain Heald himself who now pushed his way through the throng until he fronted me.
 
"Who was it?" he asked, sharply. "We have lost no men!"
 
"His name is Burns, sir. I ran across him just back of the Kinzie house."
 
"Burns? Ol' Tom Burns?"
 
"Yes, sir."
 
Heald laughed, a look of evident relief on his haggard features.
 
"We shall not have to worry much as to his fate," he said, turning toward Wells. "You remember the fellow, William? He was one of Mad Anthony's scouts, and came west with you in 1803 when you first held council here."
 
The other nodded, a twinkle of pleasant recollection in his eyes. "Remember him?" he repeated. "I am not likely ever to forget him. He it was who brought me your message at Fort Wayne a month ago. My sympathies in this case are entirely with the Indians. There are likely to be things happening when Ol' Tom is around, unless he has lost his versatility and nerve in recent years. Come, my lad, give us the details of the story, for it must be worth the hearing if Ol' Burns played a leading part. He is as full of tricks as a dog of fleas."
 
I repeated the story briefly, for I was now eager to be away before De Croix could dress and claim his ? 174 ? wager. I knew well the conceited coxcomb would never seek the presence of Mademoiselle until he had shed the rags he wore on entering the Fort. I remember yet that throng of faces, anxious yet amused, peering over each other's shoulders to get a better view of me as I talked, and constantly augmented as the word passed quickly about the garrison that we had safely returned from our midnight adventures.
 
"You will send aid to him?" I questioned, as I concluded, my eyes fixed appealingly upon Captain Heald.
 
"Not I," was the prompt and decisive rejoinder. "No soldier of this command shall leave the stockade until the hour for our final departure. The fellow had a chance to come in here with the others before the gates were closed, but was obstinate as a mule, and must now take the consequences. But you need not worry about Ol' Tom, my boy; he'll circumvent those red devils in some way, you may rest assured, nor would he even thank us for interference. I have no force with which to control the horde of savages that surround us here. A clash of arms would be their excuse for immediate attack, and might mean death and torture to the whole garrison. Our only hope lies in being permitted to pass out without armed collision; and to do this requires that we ignore such hidden deeds. 'Twas a mad prank of yours last night, and might have involved us all in common ruin. Go this ? 175 ? time free, except for these words of censure; for you are not directly under my orders. Another such attempt, subversive of all discipline, and the gates of Dearborn will be closed against you."
 
These harsh expressions stung me, but I felt them in a measure merited, and made no reply.
 
"'Twas but the act of a boy, Heald," interposed Wells kindly, resting his hand upon my shoulder, "and you will find the lad well worth having when time of trial comes."
 
I slipped away through an opening in the curious throng, and hastened across the open parade toward the mess-room. I felt dust-covered and bruised from my rough experiences, and hoped to discover opportunities for a bath. The building called the mess-room was long, running nearly half the length of the stockade, built like the others of logs, two stories in height, and containing a number of rooms. The single flight of stairs, opening just within the porch, was exceedingly rude, and built without any protecting rail. I hesitated a moment when fairly within the entrance, scarce knowing which way to turn in search of what I sought; but as I waited there, a light step sounded upon the bare floor above, and glancing up, with quickened beat of the heart, my eyes caught the soft drapery of a woman as she stepped on the upper stair.
 
I could scarcely have retreated had I wished to do so, though I realized instantly who it was, and drew ? 176 ? back against the wall, so that she came down, singing lightly to herself, without noticing my presence until we were face to face. It was a picture to touch the heart of any man, and abide forever in the memory. I saw the sunlight as it streamed through an upper window along the rough log wall and flecked her white dress with ever-changing spots of quivering gold, and, as she drew nearer to my standing-place, played softly amid the masses of her dark-brown hair, giving it a tinge of glory. How daintily fair she was! how archly sweet looked the clear girlish face under the coquettish sweep of the broad hat! and with what unconscious grace she moved down the rude stairway, one white hand steadying her against the brown logs, the other gathering her draperies so close that I could not be blind to the daintily slippered foot that shyly peeped below the petticoat of ruffled silk. I may not have loved he............