ss of their
character--of the facility with which they turn over in a single
day from the American to the British flag--would convince him."

"And yet," pursued Ronayne, musingly, "they know nothing of the
war. What could be their motives, where their immediate interests
will be rather retarded than promoted by the maintenance of peaceful
relations?"

"How do we know what passes without the fort? They may have had
their runners and news brought to them of the war before Winnebeg
returned."

A sudden thought flashed across the brain of Ronayne. Could tidings
of the event in any way be connected with the flight of his wife?
and had that, at the instigation of Wau-nan-gee, accelerated the
moment of her departure? But Elmsley knew not what _he_ knew, and
he offered no remark on the subject.

"It wants now an hour," resumed Lieutenant Elmsley, looking at his
watch, "to the time named for the council which is to be held on
the glacis immediately in front of the southern bastion, and,
therefore, immediately under the flag. Join me here then, Ronayne,
and I shall have made the necessary arrangements. All the
responsibility I take upon myself, my friend, not only as your
senior, but as one who is perfectly willing to take the lion's
share of the anger that has been showered so plentifully upon both
this day. Now I must hasten and regulate the '_imperium in imperio_'
for I am afraid that if, as you say, we trust alone to Headley's
reading of Pottowatomie faith, we shall have rather a Flemish
account of satisfaction to render to ourselves. Goodbye. In half
an hour--not later."

Ronayne, having nothing in the meantime to do, sauntered towards
his own apartments. When he entered his chamber, Catharine, the
faithful servant of his wife, was leaning along the foot of the
bed, her face buried in the covering and sobbing violently. The
depth of her sorrow was anguish to him. He shuffled his feet along
the floor to make her sensible of his presence. The girl heard him;
she looked up--her face and eyes were so swollen with tears that
she could scarcely see. She started to her feet, and raising her
apron with both hands to her eyes, left the room sobbing even more
violently than before.

"Poor girl--poor girl!" murmured Ronayne, while a tear forced itself
into his own; "indeed I feel for your grief; but it will soon
subside; you will soon be well, while I ---"

He threw himself, dressed as he was, even without removing his
swor