“Never mind the boy; I will remember him to his cost,” said Jules. “Where did you leave them?” “About five miles to the east.” “Then the pass they went into lies south of the big hills, don’t it?” “Yes.” “Then I know whar they mean to camp,” said Ben, “and thar’s goin’ to be the only place whar I stand a chaince of gettin’ that boy out’n the hands of the durned Blackfeet. It’s got to be did, if old Ben Miffin kin cipher it down. I don’t know thet I’d do it fer his sake, but fer the gal.” “You seem to take a great deal of interest in her, don’t you?” said Jules, with a half-sneer which Ben did not at all like. “To be sure; don’t you?” Jules Damand laughed in a strange way, which by no means pleased Ben. Indeed, there was something in his conduct lately different from the frank and open manner which had won the sympathy of the old trapper, in St. Louis. Even the stolid German observed the change. Millicent drew the Frenchman aside as soon as she could do so. “Was Bentley down-hearted? Did he despair?” she asked. “Who? Do you call him by his first name? What is he that you should take so much interest in him?” “He is my very dear friend. You do not answer my question.” She spoke in rather a haughty tone. “He was down-hearted indeed, and with good reason. He is either going to a hopeless captivity or certain death, and he lacks the spirit to escape, as I did.” “Sir!” “Well, what now?” “No man dare say to me that Bentley Morris fears to attempt any thing a man may do. You shall not traduce him. I believe that you hate him, though I can not imagine the cause.” Damand slowly left her, with a savage gleam in his eyes. CHAPTER VIII. SHOWING HIS COLORS. Next morning Ben was on his feet early, and mounting the white horse, he went away alone, leaving Millicent in the care of the Dutchman and Jules. He whispered in the ear of the young girl that he would either bring her lover back to her, or leave his bones upon the prairie. She had the utmost confidence in him, and felt a certain elation at heart as she saw that the brave old man was determined on the enterprise. Jan, who was fast learning to trust in him, wished to go too, but the old trapper would not allow it, and resolutely ordered the Dutchman to return, which he did, with several Dutch expletives, not proper to enter in this book. Left with these rough men in camp, Millicent had not the slightest fear. She knew that the Dutchman, in his rude way, was her knight, ready to defend her from insult of any kind. “I am afraid that father Ben will get into danger on my account,” she said. “Oh, Penn ish not afrait,” said Jan, looking at her with a broad smile, as she sat down upon a stump near him. “Penn so prave ash nefer vas.” At this moment Jules, who had been leaning against the doorpost of the cabin, apparently in deep thought, came up and whispered in her ear. “What do you want?” she said, without turning her head.