"Wait, Menard. I don't know what to say. I must have time to think. If you wish, I will not give notice of your arrival to the Governor. I will leave the matter of reporting in your hands." He rose, and fingered the papers on the table. "You see how it will look--there is the maid--La Grange seeks your life, you seek his--" Menard drew himself up, his hat in his hand. "It shall be pushed to the end, Major. You know me; you know Captain la Grange. There will be excitement, perhaps,--you may find it hard to avoid taking one side or the other. I must ask which side is to be yours." D'Orvilliers winced, and for a moment stood biting his lip; then he stepped forward and took both Menard's hands. "You shouldn't have asked that," he said. "God bless you, Menard! God bless you!" Menard paused in the door, and turned. "Shall I need a pass to enter the hospital?" "Oh, you can't go there. La Grange is there." "Yes; I will report to him. He shall not say that I have left it to hearsay." "But he will attack you!" "No; I will not fight him until I have an answer from the Governor." "You can't get in now until morning." "Very well, good-night." "You will be careful, Menard?" The Captain nodded and left the room. Wishing to settle his thoughts, he passed through the palisade gate and walked down the beach. The commissary men were loading the canoes, threescore of them, that were to carry the garrison on its westward journey. Already the twilight was deepening, and the lanterns of the officers were dimmed by the glow from a hundred Indian camp-fires. From within the fort came a long bugle-call. There was a distant rattling of arms and shouting of commands, then the tramp of feet, and the indistinct line came swinging through the sally-port. They halted at the water's edge, broke ranks, and took to the canoes, paddling easily away along the shore until they had faded into shadows. A score of Indians stood watching them, stolidly smoking stone pipes and holding their blankets close around them. It was an hour later when the Captain returned to the fort and started across the enclosure toward the hut which had been assigned to him. Save for a few Indians and a sentry who paced before the barracks, the fort seemed deserted. It was nearly dark now, and the lanterns at the sally-port and in front of barrack and hospital glimmered faintly. Menard had reached his own door, when he heard a voice calling, and turned. A dim figure was running across the square toward the sentry. There was a moment of breathless talk,--Menard could not catch the words,--then the sentry shouted. It occurred to Menard that he was now the senior officer at the fort, and he waited. A corporal led up his guard, halted, and again there was hurried talking. Menard started back toward them, but before he reached the spot all were running toward the hospital, and a dozen others of the home guard had gathered before the barracks and were talking and asking excited questions.