opportunity to recruit from the vigils of the
previous night, protracted, as the soldiers began to suspect, that they
might be in readiness to respond to an onslaught of the savages. For
Captain Stuart made no effort to restrain the story of the scene at the
gate, since the sentries were already cognizant of it; he always saw fit
to maintain before the troops an attitude of extreme frankness, as if
the officers suppressed no intelligence, whatever its character, even
with the intention of conducing to the public good.

In the great hall in the block-house of the northwestern bastion, when
the officers were congregated about the fire, in the rude arm-chairs,
and their pipes lighted, he divulged without reserve the news which the
express had brought. In an instant all the garnered sweetness of the
retrospect of the little holiday they had made for themselves and their
co-exiles was turned to gall. It even held bitter dregs of remorse.

"And we were dancing all the night through while you knew this horrible
thing!" exclaimed Captain Demere, his voice tense with reproach.

"Lord!--it happened three weeks ago, Paul," returned Stuart, "if it
happened at all! Some of the settlers had already come. I did not feel
qualified to balk the children and the young people of their
enjoyment--or the elders, either. The world will go on after such
tragedies. It must, you know." He pulled at his pipe, meditatively. "To
have called a halt could have done those poor fellows no good," he
nodded toward the south, "and might have done us incalculable harm.
There had already been a demonstration of the Indians, before the
express came in, because they had noticed the gathering of the guests,
and I thought the settlers safer congregated in the fort until daybreak
than going home scattered through the night. This is no time or place to
give ceremonious deference to questions of feeling."

"Was there a demonstration of the Indians last night, Captain?" asked
Lieutenant Gilmore.

Stuart detailed both occurrences at the gate. "Without the chief's
guaranty I don't see how we could have let the settlers go this
morning," he concluded.

Demere frowned deeply as he sat upright in his chair and gazed at the
fire.

"You have great presence of mind in these queer emergencies, John," he
said. "For my life I could not have thought how to get rid of them
peaceably--to offer to open the gates!"

"I can't soothe the Indians," said Ensign Whitson, with