Colonel Clark had already cleared the outskirts of the town, and was alone in the wild prairie, a swell of land hiding him from view. He rode slowly along, buried in painful and bitter thoughts. He began to see that he had been hasty in his first explosion of anger against the adjutant. Had it been possible to have recalled it, he would have done so; but now that mutiny had boldly established itself, he felt that he must be firm, right or wrong. His resignation of authority, though it seemed as if wrung from him in desperation, was in reality nothing but a return of his old tact and management.

That the movement had taken his men by surprise he felt sure from the dead silence which followed his words. He fully expected that a message would come after him, but he expected it from his officers, at whom he felt very angry for not having given him their support.

He had resolved to coquette with them before he yielded, as he had all along determined, and resumed the command. He was resolved to make them realize his full value. When he heard the clatter of horsehoofs behind him, therefore, he kept steadily on. The fact that only a single person was following him somewhat surprised him, but he did not deign to turn his head.

Then some one dashed past him at full speed, and Ruby Roland, in all her splendor of beauty, wheeled around in front of his horse and halted, extending the sheathed sword with an imperious gesture.

Clark was for a moment taken aback. The next he colored angrily and waved her aside, saying:

“Mademoiselle, it is too late. You have your victory. See if you can make as good use of it as I have. Permit me to pass.”

“I will not,” said Ruby, firmly. “You must resume your[91] command, sir. There are too many lives depending on you to be lost for a foolish quarrel about a girl.”

“Did you think of that, mademoiselle,” he asked, bitterly, “when you undertook to excite my men to mutiny, to protect an insolent boy, who called you—. No, I will not say what. No, mademoiselle, but I will say this, that it is a hard thing to find that when I did a thing to avenge your name from insult, you should be the first person to protect my enemy, and steal away my men’s hearts from the leader they trusted till you came between us.”

Ruby listened to his indignant words in silence. The girl was very pale now, and her eyes had a strange light in them, as of triumph and revenge, which struck the colonel as singular, when he met them.

“So the little girl you despised last year, and packed off to her tribe, is not so powerless, after all, monsieur?” she said, in a low tone. “She has stirred your proud heart at last.”

“If it is any consolation to you to know it,” said Clark, bitterly, “you know my heart as well as I do. Perhaps you and your boy lover have laughed over my endeavors to save your name from light speaking.”

“Who asked you to save my name from any thing?” said she, haughtily. “You take on yourself an impertinence to do it. Did I ask you to fire up like a fool before those rude fellows, and show your heart so plainly that the boys in the streets sing lampoons about us? Who is to blame for that, sir, but you? My name, indeed! Much you have cared for it to permit it to be dragged through the mud of Kaskaskia, because you have a temper that you can not control. I am a fool to come here to entreat you to come back. Would I had never seen you! Let the sword lie where you have dashed my name, since you are no longer fit to wear it.”

And the excited girl indignantly dashed the sword on the ground, and wheeled her horse to ride away. Then it was that Clark put spurs to his own horse and darted forward, laying his hand on her bridle with iron grasp.

“Not so fast, mademoiselle,” he said, sternly. “You have cast an imputation on my honor that I can not visit ............