fic four, some of his apprehension disappeared.

Henry meanwhile had left the fire beside which he had eaten breakfast,
and--though closely guarded--strolled about the great enclosure. He felt
an uncommon lightness of heart. It was almost as if he were the jailer
and not the jailed. That letter from his four comrades was a message to
him as well as to de Peyster. He knew that the soldiers of de Peyster
and the Indians would make every effort to take them, but the woods
about Detroit were dense and they would be on guard every second. There
was no certainty, either, that all the French-Canadians were warmly
attached to the King's cause. Why should they be? Why should they fight
so zealously for the country that had conquered them not many years
before? He saw once more in the afternoon the square, strong figure of
Lajeunais, crossing the court. When the Frenchman noticed him he stopped
and came back, smiling and showing his great white teeth.

"Ah, mon brav," he said, "doesn't the great North yet call to you?"

"No," replied Henry, with an answering smile. "As I told you, I am going
to escape."

"You may," said Lajeunais, suddenly lowering his voice. "I met one of
your friends in the forest. I cannot help, but I will not hinder. C'est
une pitie that a garcon so gran' an' magnificent as you should pine an'
die within prison walls."

Then he was gone before Henry could thank him. Toward nightfall he was
notified that he must return to his prison and now he felt the full
weight of confinement when the heavy walls closed about him. But
Holderness came with the soldier who brought his supper and remained to
talk. Henry saw that Holderness, not long from England, was lonesome and
did not like his work. It was true also that the young Englishman was
appalled by the wilderness, not in the sense of physical fear, but the
endless dark forest filled him with the feeling of desolation as it has
many another man. He had found in Henry, prisoner though he was, the
most congenial soul, that he had yet met in the woods. As he lingered
while Henry ate the hard-tack and coffee, it was evident that he wanted
to talk.

"These friends of yours," he said. "They promise wonderful things. Do
you really think they will rescue you, or did you merely say so to
impress Colonel de Peyster? I ask, as man to man, and forgetting for the
time that we are on opposing sides."

Henry liked him. Here, undoubtedly, was an honest and truthful heart. He