't tell you," answered Faith.

"Then 'tis of small use. Harm might come to you, child," he answered,
stretching himself out on the long settle with a tired sigh.

Faith went slowly back to the kitchen. Here was the very chance she
had so long hoped for, and this stranger would not let her attempt it.

All that afternoon Faith was very quiet. She walked across the fields
to the shore and looked at the big willow tree where the canoe was
concealed. She looked off toward Mount Defiance, and Mount Hope,
rising clearly against the sky, as if standing sentinels for Fort
Ticonderoga.

"I'll try, anyway," she said to herself, as she turned toward home.

After supper she went early up-stairs. But she did not undress. She
knew that her uncle would not go to the lake shore with his visitor,
for that might attract the attention of some hunter or fisherman. It
would not be long before Mr. Phelps would start. There was no time to
lose. She put on her fur cap, and a knit jacket, and then peered out
of the window. The sky was clear, and the moon made it almost as light
as day. The sound of the falls came clearly through the quiet air.

"He could find his way up the cliff as plainly as if it were
daylight," thought Faith, as she turned from the window.

She opened her door and closed it silently behind her. Her cousins
were in bed, her uncle and aunt in the sitting-room with their
visitor. Faith would have to pass the sitting-room door and go through
the kitchen; the slightest noise would betray her. She had put on
her moccasins, the ones Kashaqua had given her, and she stepped
cautiously, without a sound. In a few moments she was safely
out-of-doors and running across the field. She crouched down in the
canoe and waited.

Faith did not hear or see the stranger as he came toward the
shore--not until he grasped the canoe to push it into the water.

"King of Britain!" he whispered under his breath, when Faith spoke his
name. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to show you the way into the fort. Yes! 'Twill take not
more than an hour or two. Then you can leave me here. 'Twill do me no
harm, and you will tell Colonel Allen about the fort," said Faith, in
a whisper.

The man slid the canoe into the water. "You are well-named, Faith," he
responded. "Well, 'tis a chance, and no man will harm a little maid,"
and with a stroke of his paddle he sent the canoe clear of the willows
and headed toward the fort.

"Keep close to the s