yne, who had not only been
victorious in battles, but had convinced Joseph Brant, Little Turtle,
and Blue Jacket that they were mistaken in their hopes of a British
re-conquest, and had gained by honorable treaty much of the country that
had been claimed by the Indians. Each month the feeling was growing
stronger that the United States was to be a positive and enduring power.

General Wayne stepped from the boat to the pier amid cheers, waving of
flags and handkerchiefs. The soldiers were formed in line to escort him.
He looked tired and worn, but there was a certain spirit in his fine,
courageous eyes that answered the glances showered upon him, although
his cordial words could only reach the immediate circle.

Jeanne caught a glimpse of him and stood wondering. Her ideas of heroes
were vague and limited. She had seen the English dignitaries in their
scarlet and gold lace, their swords and trappings, and this man looked
plain beside them. Yet he or some power behind him had turned the
British soldiers out of Detroit. What curious kind of strength was it
that made men heroes? Something stirred within Jeanne that had never
been there before,--it seemed to rise in her throat and almost strangle
her, to heat her brain, and make her heart throb; her first sense of
admiration for the finer power that was not brute strength,--and she
could not understand it. No one about her could explain mental growth.

Then another feeling of gladness rushed over her that made every pulse
bound with delight.

"O Pani," and she clutched the woman's coarse gown, "there is the man
who talked to me the day they put up the flag--don't you remember? And
see--he smiles, yes, he nods to me, to me!"

She caught Pani's hand and gave it an exultant beat as if it had been a
drum. It was near enough like parchment that had been beaten with many a
drumstick. She was used to the child's vehemence.

"I wish he were this great general! Pani, did you ever see a king?"

"I have seen great chiefs in grand array. I saw Pontiac--"

"Pouf!" with a gesture that made her seem taller. "Madame Ganeau's
mother saw a king once--Louis somebody--and he sat in a great chariot
and bowed to people, and was magnificent. That is such a grand word.
And it is the way this man looks. Suppose a king came and spoke to
you--why, you would be glad all your life."

Pani's age and her phlegmatic Indian blood precluded much enthusiasm,
but she smiled down in the eager face.