"'Tis merely a chance we take--the only one," he explained briefly. "I cannot even be certain the fort is in state of siege, yet, without doubt those warriors who went down the river would be in position to prevent our approaching the rock by canoe. There is a secret path here, known only to La Salle's officers, which, however, should give us entrance, unless some wandering Iroquois has discovered it by accident. We must approach with the utmost caution, yet I do not anticipate great peril. Barbeau, do not become separated from Madame, but let me precede you by a hundred paces--you will have no trouble following the trail." He disappeared in the darkness, vanishing silently, and we stood motionless waiting our turn to advance. Neither spoke, Barbeau leaning forward, his gun extended, alert and ready. The intense darkness, the quiet night, the mystery lurking amid those shadows beyond, all combined to arouse within me a sense of danger. I could feel the swift pounding of my heart, and I clasped the sleeve of the soldier's jacket merely to assure myself of his actual presence. The pressure of my fingers caused him to glance about. "Do not be frightened, Madame," he whispered encouragingly. "There would be firing yonder if the Iroquois blocked our path." "Fear not for me," I answered, surprised at the steadiness of my voice. "It is the lonely silence which makes me shrink; as soon as we advance I shall have my nerve again. Have we not waited long enough?" "Ay, come; but be careful where you place your feet." He led the way, walking with such slow caution, that, although I followed step by step, not a sound reached my ears. Dark as the night was, our eyes, accustomed to the gloom, were able to distinguish the marks of the trail, and follow its windings without much difficulty. Many a moccasined foot had passed that way before us, beating down a hard path through the sod, and pressing aside the low bushes which helped to conceal the passage. At first we followed rather closely the bank of the stream; then the narrow trail swerved to the right, entering a gap between two hills, ever tending to a higher altitude. We circled about large rocks, and up a ravine, through which we found barely room for passage, the walls rising steep and high on either side. It was intensely dark down there, yet impossible for us to escape the trail, and at the end of that passage we emerged into an open space, enclosed with woods, and having a grit of sand under foot. Here the trail seemed to disappear, but Barbeau struck straight across, and in the forest shade beyond we found De Artigny waiting. "Do not shoot," he whispered. "I was afraid you might misjudge the way here, as the sand leaves no clear trace. The rest of the passage is through the woods, and up a steep hill. You are not greatly wearied, Madame?" "Oh, no; I have made some false steps in the dark, but the pace has been slow. Do we approach the fort?"