t one or two of the men. Though the night
was now much brighter, they were in the shadow, and neither the
Captain nor Danton observed that the brandy which the transport men
had supplied was passing steadily from hand to hand. They could not
know that the boy Guerin lay on his back amid the attacking Onondagas,
an arrow sticking upright in his breast, one hand lying across his
musket, the other clasping a flask.

The maid had not moved. She could be easily seen now in the clearer
light, and Menard went to her, feeling the need of giving her some
work to occupy her mind during the strain of the fight.

"Mademoiselle," he whispered.

She looked up. He could see that she was shivering.

"I must ask you to help me. We must get the canoe into the water. They
will soon tire of the assault and withdraw; then it will be safe to
take to the canoe. They cannot hurt you. We are protected by the
bank."

He helped her to rise, and she bravely threw her weight on the canoe,
which Menard could so easily have lifted alone, and stood at the edge
of the beach, passing him the bundles, which he, wading out, placed
aboard. But suddenly he stopped, with an exclamation, peering into the
canoe.

The maid, dreading each moment some new danger, asked in a dry voice,
"What is it, M'sieu?"

For reply he seized the bundles, one at a time, and tossed them
ashore, hauling the canoe after, and running his hand along the bark.

The maid stepped to his side. There was a gaping hole in the side of
the canoe. She drew her breath in quickly, and looked up at him.

"It was Perrot," he muttered, "that fool Perrot." He stood looking at
it, as if in doubt what to do. Up on the bank the men, Danton and
Father Claude among them, were popping away at the rustling bushes.
Suddenly he turned and gazed down at the maid's upturned face.
"Mademoiselle," he said, "I do not think there is danger, but whatever
happens you must keep close to me, or to Danton and Father Claude. It
may be that there will be moments when we cannot stop and explain to
you as I am doing now, but you must trust us, and believe that all
will come out well. The other men are not themselves to-night--"

He stopped. It was odd that he should so talk to a maid while his men
were fighting for their lives; but the Menard who had the safety of
this slender girl in his hands was not the Menard of a hundred battles
gone by. So he lingered, not knowing why, save that he hoped for some
word f