The night closed in over Kaskaskia, cool and pleasant after the sultry day. There was no moon, but the stars were uncommonly brilliant, and there was no difficulty in traveling. The Governor of Kaskaskia, a few days before, had been exercising the militia of the neighboring country, with considerable force of Indian allies; for some vague rumors had reached him of a possible raid by the rebel Virginians. All along the banks of the Mississippi scouts and spies were stationed with swift horses, to give notice of any force ascending the river. But, as the days wore on, and no one came, the vigilance of the townspeople had slacked.

Guard was mounted regularly at the fort, and there were several hundred militia in the town; but the parades were more formal than useful, and twenty men were judged sufficient for the defense of the fort.

Governor Rocheblave retired to rest that night, somewhat disturbed in mind. The message from old Tabac had puzzled and annoyed him, but he was too confident of his own ability to manage the Indians to fear for the issue of next day’s conference.

He sat up till ten o’clock, preparing an artful speech, to be[56] followed by munificent presents, and finally went to bed hopeful of success.

Meanwhile, Ruby and her red friends were hospitably quartered in an empty building near the “palace,” and to all appearance were settled for the night, when the rest of the townspeople were asleep.

About three-quarters of a mile above the town, on the opposite side of the river Kaskaskia, stood the farm-house of Monsieur Picard, a worthy market-gardener, who supplied the town with vegetables; and around this house, about an hour after dark, events were taking place which would have alarmed the Governor considerably, had he known them.

Monsieur Picard and his family, in their night-clothes, and all pale with terror, were surrounded by a crowd of rough-looking men, who were questioning them about the town, in English.

“Mon Dieu, messieurs,” said the unhappy gardener, “eef you vill not keel me, I vill tell all I know. Monsieur Rocheblave, de Gouverneur, he have two, t’ree, twenty t’ousand soldier dere, and he march and make parade, eh, mon Dieu, how I know vat it mean—I be not soldat, I do not know, but dey say de Americains dey come to cut our t’roats, comme les Indiens, and M. Rocheblave he say dat he extair-r-rminate dem for King Shorge!”

“How many men are in the fort?” inquired one man, less savage in aspect than the rest, and in good French.

“Not many, monsieur, not many. There is only the company of Capitaine Ledoux to mount guard there,” said Picard, glibly.

“Good!” said the other. “Where’s Adjutant Frank?”

It was Clark who spoke. There was a short silence.

Then Captain Harrod answered.

“I thought you knew, colonel. The little cuss found a hoss yesterday, and rid off into the perrary, all alone, this arternoon. He said as how he war a-goin’ on a scout on his own hook.”

Clark seemed disturbed.

“I know, captain, I know; but I thought he had come back. The boy promised to be with us by dark. Has any one seen him since?”

[57]

There was no answer, and Clark groaned aloud.

“The rash lad! He must have lost his way. If there were any Indians about, I should judge him a prisoner; and if he has been taken into Kaskaskia, the town will be alarmed, and we shall have hard work!”

It was seldom the cautious leader allowed his feelings to be publicly noticed, and it was evident he was deeply stirred by the fate of the little adjutant, who had become a wonderful favorite with all the command during the weary secret march over the prairies of Illinois. He turned sternly on Picard, saying:

“Now, sir, tell me quick, and tell me truly, as you value your life, has the Governor of Kaskaskia any notion we are here?”

“My God! monsieur, how can he? Should I be where I am, if that were the case? I will tell the truth, monsieur. The Governor expects you to come up the river, and men are there, on the watch.”

“Then we w............