not know, M'sieu. We have no weapons, and it may be, yet, that
the Big Throat--"

"Yes, I know."

"And there is the maid, M'sieu."

For the first time since the sunrise the quiet expression left the
Captain's face. He was silent for a moment. Then he said:--

"I will go, Father. You must protect her. If anything--if they should
dare to touch her, you will--?"

"I will fight them, M'sieu."

"Thank you." Menard held out his hand. They gripped in silence, and
turned again toward the Indians, who were now but a hundred yards
away.

"They will stop in a moment," said Menard, "and form for the gantlet.
Yes,--see, the Long Arrow holds up his hands." He stood irresolute,
looking at the fantastic picture; then he stepped back into the hut.

The maid lay in her blanket on the bench. He stood over her, looking
at the peaceful face that rested on her outstretched arm. He took her
hand, and said gently:--

"Mademoiselle."

She stirred, and slowly opened her eyes; she did not seem surprised
that he should be there clasping tightly her slender hand. He wondered
if he had been in her dreams.

"Good-bye, Mademoiselle."

"You--you are going, M'sieu?"

"Yes."

She looked up at him with half-dazed eyes. She was not yet fully
awake.

"You must not fear," he said. "They cannot hurt you. You will soon be
safe at--at Frontenac."

She was beginning to understand. Then all at once the light came into
her eyes, and she clung to his arm, which was still wet with the dew.

"You are not going? They will not take you? Oh, M'sieu, I cannot--you
must not!"

She would have said more, but he bent down and kissed her forehead.
Then, with his free hand he unclasped her fingers and went away. At
the door he turned. She was sitting on the bench, gazing after him
with a look that he never forgot. For all of the unhappiness, the
agony, that came to him from those eyes, it was with a lighter heart
that he faced the warriors who rushed to seize him.

Every brave, woman, and child that the village could supply was in the
double line that stretched away from a point on the path not a hundred
yards distant to the long council house, which stood on a slight rise
of ground. They were armed with muskets, clubs, knives,--with any
instrument which could bruise or, mutilate the soldier as he passed,
and yet leave life in him for the harder trials to follow. Five
warriors, muskets in hand, had come to the hut. They sprang at Menard
as he stepp