roprietary hand towards
the walls and towers of his fortress. "A snug little shelter for the
backwoods--eh, M. a Clive? I am, you must know, a student of the art
of fortification; _c'est ma rengaine_, as my daughter will tell you,
and I shall have much to ask concerning that famous outwork of
M. de Montcalm's, which touches my curiosity. So far as Damase could
tell me, Fort Carillon itself was never even in danger--" But here
Mademoiselle Diane again touched his sleeve. "Yes, yes, to be sure,
we will not weary our friend just now. We will cure him first; and
while he is mending, you shall look out a new uniform from the stores
and set your needle to work to render it as like as you can contrive
to the Bearnais. Nay, sir, to her enthusiasm that will be but a
trifle. Remember that you come to us crowned with laurels, and with
news for which we welcome you as though you brought a message from
the General himself." A sudden thought fetched the Commandant to a
standstill. "You are sure that the sergeant, your comrade, carried
no message?"

John paused with Menehwehna's arm supporting him.

"If he carried a message, monsieur, he told me of none."

Where were his faculties? Why were they hanging back and refusing to
come to grips with the crisis? Why did this twilit riverside persist
in seeming unreal to him, and the actors, himself included, as
figures moving in a shadow-play?

Once, in a dream, he had seen himself standing at the wings of a
stage--an actor, dressed for his part. The theatre was crowded;
someone had begun to ring a bell for the curtain to go up; and he,
the hero of the piece, knew not one word of his part, could not even
remember the name of the play or what it was about. The dream had
been extraordinarily vivid, and he had awakened in a sweat.

"But," the Commandant urged, "he must have had some reason for
striking through the forest. What was his name?"

"Barboux."

John, as he answered, could not see Menehwehna's face; but
Menehwehna's supporting arm did not flinch.

"Was he, too, of the regiment of Bearn?"

"He was of the Bearnais, monsieur."

"Tell us now. When the Iroquois overtook you, could he have passed
on a message, had he carried one?"

While John hesitated, Menehwehna answered him. "It was I only who
saw the sergeant die," said Menehwehna quietly. He gave me no
message."

"You were close to him?"

"Very close."

"It is curious," mused the Commandant, and turn