"I couldn't sleep. It was hot, and--Cousin Ralph, you must tell me. I am not a child, to be kept in the dark. What is this horrible thing that seems to be hovering over us? Uncle John does not speak to any one; twice yesterday I found Aunt Eleanor crying; Cousin Rob and Mr. Ronald are not in the least like themselves; Kit and Mrs. Franklin are as pale as ghosts, and you--I saw you walking here all night. What does it mean? Tell me!" "We fear attack," he answered sharply. "Indians or British?" "Indians--under British orders." For a moment the girl stared at him as if she did not believe what he said. "Would they--would they--" she gasped, "turn those fiends upon us?" "Yes," he cried, "they would! They have done so in times past and they will do so again! They--I beg your pardon--I have forgotten myself--I--I--" "Cousin Ralph, you are not well. You have walked all night, and you need rest. I understand your anxiety, your fears for us, but you need not be alarmed. We are women, but we are weak only in body--at heart we are soldiers like you, and, like you, we will obey orders. Cousin Ralph! You are ill! Come!" He staggered, but did not fall. Beatrice put her arm around him and helped him home. "Don't be frightened, Kit," she said, when the door was opened; "he's just tired. He's been up all night and sleep will bring him to himself again." "Can I help?" asked Forsyth, anxiously. He had come to ask Beatrice if she would not breakfast at home. "Yes, please," said Mrs. Howard, quietly. "Help me get him into bed. He has been under a great nervous strain." Beatrice sat on the piazza and waited. She had said she was not weak, but she was suffering keenly, none the less. After a little Robert came back. "He went to sleep immediately," he said; "but Mrs. Howard prefers to stay with him." "Then we'll go home," she sighed. Together they went out of the stockade into the merciless heat that already had set shimmering waves to vibrating in the air. She drooped like a broken lily--her strength was gone. Robert's heart went out to her in pity, and something more. When they reached the piazza he put his hand upon her arm. "Beatrice, dear," he said, softly, "lean on me. I cannot bear to see you so--my darling, let me help you!" His voice shook, but she did not seem to hear. "I'm tired," she answered dully; "I--I didn't sleep." She put him away from her very gently. "I--I'm so tired," she repeated, with an hysterical laugh that sounded like a sob. "I don't want any breakfast--I just want to lie down and rest. Don't let Aunt Eleanor worry." She went down the passage unsteadily, and he watched her until she was safely within her own room. He quieted Mrs. Mackenzie's fears as best he could, and managed to eat a part of his breakfast, though it was as dust and ashes in his mouth. "Rob," said the trader, "can you help me to-day?" "Certainly, Uncle."