Part 11 (1/2)

Then Captain Wells spoke more loudly, so that his words reached my ears.

”But, Heald,” he said, ”what means all this litter of garrison equipment lying scattered about? Surely you have no present intention to leave the Fort, in face Of that savage mob out yonder?”

”'T is the orders of General Hull,” was the low; and somewhat hesitating response, ”and the Pottawattomie chiefs have pledged us escort around the head of the lake. But this is no place to discuss the matter. As soon as possible I would speak with you more fully in my office.”

The look of undisguised amazement upon Wells's face startled me; and as I glanced about me, wondering whom I might take counsel with, I was astonished to note the horse that Toinette had ridden standing with empty saddle. De Croix, negligently curling his mustache between his slender fingers, gazed at me with a blank stare.

”Where is Mademoiselle?” I questioned anxiously, as he remained silent.

”Surely she was with us as we came in!”

”Pis.h.!.+ of course,” he returned carelessly; ”if she chooses to dismount and rejoin her friends, what has that to do with John Wayland? Cannot the girl so much as move without your permission, Monsieur?”

The words were insolent, not less than the manner that accompanied them.

Instantly there flashed upon me the thought that this Frenchman sought a quarrel with me; but I could conceive no reason therefor, and was not greatly disposed to accommodate him.

”'T was no more than curiosity that urged my question,” I answered, a.s.suming not to notice his bravado. ”I was so deeply interested in other things as to have forgotten her presence.”

”Something no lady is ever likely to forgive,” he interjected. ”But what think you they propose doing with us here?”

As if in direct answer to his question, the young officer who had met us without now elbowed his way through the throng, until he stood at our horses' heads.

”Gentlemen,” he said, with a quick glance into our faces, ”dismount and come within. There is but little to offer you here at Dearborn, we have been cut off from civilization so long; but such as we possess will be shared with you most gladly.”

De Croix chatted with him in his easy, familiar manner, as we slowly crossed the parade; while I followed them in silence, my thoughts upon the disappearance of Toinette and the Frenchman's sudden show of animosity. My glance fell upon the groups of children scattered along our path, and I wondered which among them might prove to be Roger Matherson's little one. At the entrance of one of the log houses fronting the parade,--a rather ambitious building of two stories, if I remember rightly, with a narrow porch along its front,--an officer was standing upon the step, talking with a sweet-faced woman who appeared scarce older than seventeen.

”Lieutenant Helm,” said Ronan, politely, ”this is Captain de Croix, of the French army.”

He presented De Croix to Mrs. Helm, and then turned inquiringly toward me.

”I believe I have failed to learn your name?”

”I am simply John Wayland,” I answered, and, with a glance at my face, Lieutenant Helm cordially extended his hand.

”We are greatly pleased to welcome you both,” he said earnestly, but with a grave side-glance at his young wife, ”though I fear we have little to offer you except privation and danger.”

”How many have you in the garrison?” I questioned, my eyes upon the moving figures about us. ”It looks a crowd, in that narrow s.p.a.ce.”

”They are all there who are able to crawl,” he said, with a grave smile.

”But in this case our numbers are a weakness. In the garrison proper we have four commissioned officers, with fifty-four non-commissioned officers and privates. To these may be added twelve settlers acting as militiamen, making a total defensive force of seventy men. But fully twenty-five of these are upon the sick-list, and totally unfit for active duty; while we are further burdened by having under our protection twelve women and twenty children. It almost crazes one to think of what their fate may be.”

”Your defences look strong enough to keep off savages,” broke in De Croix, ”and I am told there is a sufficiency of provisions. Saint Guise!

I have seen places where I had rather reside in my old age; yet with plenty of wine, some good fellows, and as lovely women as have already greeted me here, 'twill not prove so bad for a few weeks.”

Helm glanced at him curiously; then his gaze, always gravely thoughtful, wandered back to me.

”We are to evacuate the Fort,” he said quietly.

”Evacuate?” echoed the Frenchman, as if the word were displeasing. ”'T is a strange military act, in my judgment, and one filled with grave peril. Does such decision come from a council?”