rth that morning
filled with hope and life. I had, it is true, known none of them long,
but there were many in that ill-fated company who had already grown
dear to me, and one was among them who I now knew beyond all question
was to remain in my heart forever.

I recalled the faces one by one, with some tender memory for each in
turn. I thought of the brave Captain Wells, with his swarthy face, and
Indian training, who had proved himself so truly my friend for my
father's sake; of Captain Heald, the typical bluff soldier of the
border, ready to sacrifice everything to what he deemed his duty; of
Lieutenant Helm, grave of face and calm of speech, always so thoughtful
of his sweet girl bride; and of young Ronan, loyal of heart and
impetuous of deed, whose frank manliness had so drawn me to him. And
now all these brave, true comrades were dead! Only five or six hours
ago I had spoken with them, had ridden by their side; now they lay
motionless yonder, stricken down by the basest treachery, their poor
bodies hacked and mutilated almost beyond recognition. I could
scarcely realize the awful truth; it rested upon me like some horrible
dream, from which I knew I must soon awaken.

But it was Mademoiselle,--Toinette, with the laughing eyes and roguish
face, which yet could be so tender,--whose memory held me vibrating
between constant dread and hope. Living or dead, I must know the truth
concerning her, before I felt the slightest consideration for my own
preservation. If I lived, it should be for her sake, not mine. Plan
after plan came to me as I stood there, my face barely raised above the
water level, praying for the westering sun to sink beneath the horizon.
Yet all my plans were so vague, so visionary, so filled with
difficulties and uncertainties, that at last I had nothing practical
outlined beyond a firm determination in some way to reach the Indian
camp and there learn what I could of its black secrets. I wondered
whether this rash hare-brained Frenchman would aid or hinder such a
purpose; and I glanced aside at him, curious to test the working of his
mind in such a time of trial.

"Saint Guise!" he exclaimed, marking my look, but misinterpreting it;
"the sun has gone down at last, and there seems a chill in the air
where it strikes my wet skin. It is in my thought to wade ashore,
Master Wayland, and seek food for our journey, as I can perceive no
savages near at hand."

"It will be safer if we wait her