This was the last chance. We must not be foiled. My
horse, I knew, could outrace any cayuse of the Sioux band.

"Miriam," I whispered back, lifting the canvas, "they will take you away
to-morrow--my horse is here! Come! We must risk all!"

And I shoved myself bodily in under the tent wall. She was not a hand's
length away, sitting with her face to the entrance of Diable's lodge,
her figure rigid and tense with fear. In the half light I could discern
the great, powerful, angular form of a giantess in the opening. 'Twas
the Sioux squaw. Miriam leaned forward to cover the child with a motion
intended to conceal me, and I drew quickly out.

I thought I had not been detected; but the situation was perilous
enough, in all conscience, to inspire caution, and I was backing away,
when suddenly the shadows of two men coming from opposite sides appeared
on the white tent, and something sprang upon me with tigerish fury.
There was the swish of an unsheathing blade, and I felt rather than saw
Le Grand Diable and Louis Laplante contesting over me.

"Never! He's mine, my captive! He stole my saddle! He's mine, I tell
you," ground out the Frenchman, throwing off my assailant. "Keep him for
the warriors and let him be tortured," urged Louis, snatching at the
Indian's arm.

I sprang up. It was Louis, who tripped my feet from under me, and we two
tumbled to the bottom of the cliff, while the Indian stood above
snarling out something in the Sioux tongue.

"Idiot! Anglo-Saxon ox!" muttered Louis, grappling with me as we fell.
"Do but act it out, or two scalps go! I no promise mine when I say I
help you, bah----"

That was the last I recall; for I went down head backwards, and the blow
knocked me senseless.

When I came to, with an aching neck and a humming in my ears, there was
the gray light of a waning moon, and I found myself lying bound in
Miriam's tent. Her child was whimpering timidly and she was hurriedly
gathering her belongings into a small bundle.

"Miriam, what has happened?" I asked. Then the whole struggle and
failure came back to me with an overwhelming realization that torture
and death would be our portion.

"Try no more," she whispered, brushing past me and making as though she
were gathering things where I lay. "Never try, for my sake, never try!
They will torture you. I shall die soon. Only save the child! For
myself, I am past caring. Good-by forever!" and she dashed to the other
side of the tent.

At that