I T was after midnight when I finally ceased my labors, feeling I had performed my fair share of the hard work of preparation. By this time everything was comparatively quiet within the stockade enclosure; the wagons were piled with all that could be loaded before morning, and many of the wearied soldiers had flung themselves upon the ground to snatch what rest they might before the early call to march. The women and children had disappeared, to seek such comfort as was possible amid the ruins of their former quarters; and only the sentries remained alert, pacing their solemn rounds on the narrow walk overlooking the palisades and the silent plain without.  
Physically wearied as I was, my mind remained intensely active, and I felt no desire for sleep. I do not ? 237 ? recall that I gave much thought to the perils of our situation. One grows careless and indifferent to danger,—and in truth I looked forward to no serious trouble with the Indians upon the morrow's march through the sand-dunes; not that I greatly trusted to those reluctant pledges wrung from the chiefs, but because I felt that if properly handled in that open country our force was of sufficient fighting strength to repel any ordinary attack from ill-armed savages, my long border experience rendering me a bit disdainful of Indian courage and resourcefulness. So it was that my restless mind dwelt rather upon other matters more directly personal. I could not put away the thought of the half-seen girl flitting about amid the dusk of the Pottawattomie camp, especially as Captain Heald had declared her to be Elsa Matherson. I was surprised to discover that she I sought, instead of being a mere child, was a woman grown; for in this we were all deceived by the words of her father. What did she there, passing with such apparent freedom from restraint among those fierce warriors? and how was I ever to reach her with any hope of rescue, even if she desired it? There was evidently a mystery here which I could never solve through idle musing; and yet I could but ask myself where lay my graver duty,—beside this single woman, who seemingly needed no defender, or with the many helpless ones who must march forth on the morrow on that long and ? 238 ? dangerous passage through the wilderness? Indeed, what hope could I cherish of aiding the young girl, if I now deserted these others, and endeavored alone to penetrate that Indian camp in search of her?
 
Then came another thought. It was of Mademoiselle.
 
It was this that effectually halted me. To whomsoever else she might have given her heart, she was still the one for whom I was most glad either to live or die; and in spite of De Croix, I would ride at her side on the morrow, within striking distance of any prowling hostile. Let the Matherson girl wait; my arm belonged first of all to the defence of Mademoiselle.
 
Busied with these thoughts, and endeavoring to adjust this decision with my conscience, I passed out upon the platform, that I might look forth once more upon the moonlit waters of the lake. There were a few dim figures to be seen, leaning over the logs; but I supposed them to be members of the night-guard, and, feeling no desire for companionship, I halted in a lonely spot at the northeastern corner of the stockade. How desolate, how solemnly impressive, was the scene! To the north all was black in the dense night, the shadows of the scattering trees obscuring the faint glow of the moon and yielding little of detail to the searching eye. Even the single ray of light which the evening previous had blazed forth as a friendly beacon ? 239 ? from the Kinzie home, was now absent. I could vaguely distinguish the dim outlines of the deserted house in the distance, and noticed a large boat moored close to the bank beneath the Fort stockade, doubtless the one in which the fugitives expected to venture out upon the lake on the morrow.
 
It was the wide stretch of water, gleaming like silver, that fascinated me, as it always did in its numberless changing moods. What unutterable loneliness spoke to the soul in those unknown leagues of tossing sea! how far the eye wandered unchecked, searching vainly for aught to rest upon other than glistening surge or darkling hollow! The mystery of the ages lay unexpressed in those tossing billows, sweeping in out of the black east, making low moan to the unsympathetic and unheeding sky. Deeper and deeper the spirit of unrest, of doubt, of brooding discontent, weighed down upon me as I gazed; life seemed as aimless as that constant turmoil yonder, a mere silver-tinted heaving, destined to burst in useless power on a shore of rock, and then roll back again into the mighty deep.
 
I leaned over the palisades, sunk deep in revery of home, recalling one by one the strange incidents of the last month that had so curiously conspired to cause a total upheaval of my life; and for the moment I grew oblivious of my surroundings. A mere lad, knowing little of himself and less of life, had ridden ? 240 ? westward from the Maumee; a man, in thought and character, leaned now over that beleaguered stockade of Dearborn.
 
I was recalled to actualities by a light touch on the sleeve of my shirt, and a half-laughing, half-petulant voice at my elbow.
 
"Well, Master Laggard! do I not show you great honor in thus seeking you out, after your avoidance of me all these hours?"
 
I glanced aside into the fair face and questioning eyes, noting at the same time that De Croix stood only a step beyond her in the shadows.
 
"I have been very busy, Mademoiselle," I tried to explain; "it has been a time when every strong hand was needed."
 
"Fudge!" was the indignant rejoinder. "Did I not perceive you loitering more than once to-night,—though each time I drew near, hopeful of a word of greeting, it was to behold you disappear as if by magic? Do I flatter you by thus showing my interest? Yet 'twas only that I might have explanation, that I sought you thus. Come, confess that you feared my just resentment for going forth on so perilous a trip without telling me of your plans."
 
"'Twas not altogether that," I answered, for dissembling was never an easy task for me, "as I only did what I believed would most please you. Nor have I anything to regret in my action, now that we have ? 241 ? thus gained the pledge of the Pottawattomies for protection upon the march."
 
She watched me closely as I spoke, and I wondered if she realized ever so dimly the impulse of loving service that had inspired my deed. Whether 'twas so or not, her whole mood quickly changed.
 
"I must admit you are a constant puzzle to me, John Wayland, yet rather an interesting one withal. For instance, here is Josette, who did assure me but an hour ago that your very name was unknown to her, although, if memory serves, you asserted only yesterday that you were seeking her from the Maumee country. Perhaps, sir, you can explain the contradiction?"
 
"It was not altogether as you have stated it, Mademoiselle," I stammered, confused by the directness of her attack. "I said nothing of knowing this Josette, and you have deceived yourself in the matter. I came here seeking a young girl, 'tis true, but found no trace of her until a few hours ago, most curiously, in the heart of that Indian camp yonder."
 
"You found her there? How strange!"
 
"Most strange indeed, Mademoiselle, especially as she appeared to enjoy perfect liberty among the savages."
 
"You spoke with her?"
 
"Not a word; it was only a glimpse I caught of her in the firelight, and when I sought to go to her ? 242 ? the warriors interfered and forced me back. But Captain Heald, who saw her at the same time, assured me 'twas the one I sought."
 
"'Tis small wonder, then, you could stand here at my very side so long, and yet see me not, or remain indifferent to my presence," she said, drawing slightly back. "Come, Captain de Croix, let us walk to the other corner of ............