ures above
it. Diane was not there beside her accustomed gun, and he wondered
if he should see her again before departing. He wondered if he
desired to see her. To be sure he must accept this mission, having
gone so far in deceit. It would set him free from Fort Amitie; and,
once free, he could devise with Menehwehna some plan of escaping
southward. Within the fort he could devise nothing. He winced under
the Commandant's kindness; yet blessed it for offering, now at last,
a term to his humiliation.

"M. de Vaudreuil will not be slow, I feel sure, to recognise your
services," pursued the Commandant genially. "But, that there may be
no mistake about it, I have done myself the pleasure to write him a
letter commending you. Would you care to hear a sentence or two?
No?"--for John's hand went up in protest--"Well, youth is never the
worse for a touch of modesty. Be so good, then, monsieur, as to pass
me the seal yonder."

John picked up and handed the seal almost without glancing at it.
His thoughts were elsewhere as the Commandant lit a taper, heated the
wax, and let it drop upon the letter. But just as the seal was
impressed, old Jeremie Tripier entered without knocking, and in a
state of high perturbation. "Monseigneur! Monseigneur! A whole
fleet of boats in sight--coming down the river!"

The Commandant pushed back his chair.

"Boats? Down the river? Nonsense, Jeremie, it is up the river you
mean; you have the message wrong. They must be the relief from
Montreal!"

"Nay, Monseigneur, it is down the river they are approaching.
The news came in from Sans Quartier, who is on sentry-go upstream.
He has seen them from Mont-aux-Ours, and reports them no more than
three miles away."

"Please God no ill has befallen de Noyan!" muttered the Commandant.
"Excuse me, M. a Clive; I must look into this. We will talk of our
business later."

But John scarcely heard. His eyes had fallen on the seal of the
Commandant's letter. It stared back at him--a facsimile of the one
hidden in his pocket--a flying Mercury, with, cap, winged sandals,
and caduceus.

He pulled his wits together to answer the Commandant politely, he
scarcely knew how, and followed him out to the postern gate.
Half a dozen of the garrison--all, in fact, who happened to be off
duty--were hurrying along the ridge to verify Sans Quartier's news.
John, still weak from his wound, could not maintain the pace.
Halting on the slope for breath, wh