t it,
creeping cautiously along behind the scattered bushes until we passed
the forks and swam the river's northerly branch. The action did him
good, and greatly helped to steady my own nerves, as the uproar of the
savages died steadily away behind us.

At last we came out upon a slight knoll, and found ourselves close
beside the low charred walls of what remained of Ouilmette's log-cabin.
'T was a most gloomy and desolate spot, but quiet enough, with never
the rustle of a leaf to awake the night, or startle us.

"Have you got back your nerve, Monsieur?" I asked, as we paused before
the dark outline, "or must I also help you to explore within?"

"'T is not shadows that terrify me," he answered, no doubt thoroughly
ashamed of his weakness, and eager to make amends; "nor is it likely
that anything to affright me greatly is behind these walls."

I lay prone in the grass at the corner of the cabin, my eyes fixed upon
the distant Indian village, where I could yet plainly distinguish
numberless black figures dodging about between me and the flames; while
further to the east, the greater blaze of the Fort buildings lighted
up, in a wide arc, the deserted prairie. I gave little consideration
to De Croix's exploit,--indeed, I had almost forgotten it, when
suddenly the fellow sprang backward out of the open door, a cry of wild
terror upon his lips, and his hands outstretched as it to ward off some
unearthly vision.

"Mon Dieu!" he sobbed hoarsely, falling upon his knees. "'T was the
face of Marie!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

AN ANGEL IN THE WILDERNESS

He acted so like a crazed man, grovelling face downward in the grass,
that I had to hold him, fearful lest his noise might attract attention
from our enemies.

"Be quiet, De Croix!" I commanded sternly, my hand hard upon him, my
eyes peering through the darkness to determine if possible the cause
for his mysterious fright. "What is it that has so driven you out of
your senses?"

He half rose, staring back at the black shadow of the dim doorway, his
face white as chalk in the starlight and faint glare of the distant
fires.

"'T was the face of a dead woman," he gasped, pointing forward, "there,
just within the door! I saw her buried three years ago, I swear; yet,
God be merciful! she awaited me yonder in the gloom."

"Pish!" I exclaimed, thoroughly disgusted at his weakness, and rising
to my feet. "Your nerves are unstrung by what we have been through,
and you d