ed it and the woman who had so adorned it. She came in almost
instantly to greet them, looking piteously into the kindly, bearded face
of the general, and civilly, yet absently, welcoming the others. She did
not seem to realize that Field, who stood in silence by the side of
Captain Blake, had been away. She had no thought, apparently, for anyone
but the chief himself,--he who held the destinies of her dear ones in
the hollow of his hand. His first question was for Fawn Eyes, the little
Ogalalla maiden whose history he seemed to know. "She is well and trying
to be content with me," was the reply. "She has been helping poor
Nanette. She does not seem to understand or realize what is coming to
him. Have they--ironed him--yet?"

[Illustration: "HUSH! SHE'S COMING"--SHE WAS THERE.]

"I believe not," said the general. "But it has to be done to-night. They
start so early in the morning."

"And you won't let her see him, general. No good can come from it. She
declares she will go to him in the morning, if you prohibit it
to-night," and the richly jewelled hands of the unhappy woman were
clasped almost in supplication.

"By morning he will be beyond her reach. The escort starts at six."

"And--these gentlemen here--" She looked nervously, appealingly about
her. "Must they--all know?"

"These and the inspector general. He will be here in a moment. But,
indeed, Mrs. Hay, it _is_ all known, practically," said the general,
with sympathy and sorrow in his tone.

"Not all--not all, general! Even I don't know all--She herself has said
so. Hush! She's coming."

She was there! They had listened for swish of skirts or fall of slender
feet upon the stairway, but there had not been a sound. They saw the
reason as she halted at the entrance, lifting with one little hand the
costly Navajo blanket that hung as a portiere. In harmony with the
glossy folds of richly dyed wool, she was habited in Indian garb from
head to foot. In two black, lustrous braids, twisted with feather and
quill and ribbon, her wealth of hair hung over her shoulders down the
front of her slender form. A robe of dark blue stuff, rich with broidery
of colored bead and bright-hued plumage, hung, close clinging, and her
feet were shod in soft moccasins, also deftly worked with bead and
quill. But it was her face that chained the gaze of all, and that drew
from the pallid lips of Lieutenant Field a gasp of mingled consternation
and amaze. Without a vestige of color;