And Hamish was suddenly diverted to telling of his risks, of all the escapes, by flood and fell, that he had made;--how often he had been shot at from ambush; how he had swum rivers; how he had repeatedly hidden from the Indians by dropping himself down into the hollows of trees, and once how nearly he had come to getting out no more, the place being so strait that he could scarcely use his constricted muscles to climb up to the cavity that had let him in. He had not so much trouble on the return trip; Ensign Milne had procured for him a good horse, and a rifle--he had had a brace of pistols--the horse was a free goer--as fresh now as if he had not been a mile to-day. "And where is he now?" asked Demeré, a look of anxiety on his face. "At MacLeod Station, hitched there with a good saddle on him and saddle-bags half full of corn." "Come, Hamish," said Stuart, rising, "you must be off; some Indian might find the horse." Hamish's eyes filled with tears,--to leave Odalie and Sandy without a word! He could not endure for the men to see these tears, although they thought none the less well of him for them. "Let me drop a tear in farewell for Odalie," he said, trying to be very funny, brushing his right eye with his right hand. "And for Sandy," his left eye with his left hand. "And Fifine," his right eye with his right hand. "And the cat," his left eye with his left hand. There could be nothing unmanly or girlish in this jovial demonstration! "Come, you zany!" exclaimed Stuart, affecting to think these tremulous farewells very jocose. "Yes," said Demeré, seriously, "we do not know how soon the Indians may discover our use of that passage,--up to this time it has been our only hope." Hamish gathered up his calash, and the precise Demeré assisted him to adjust it and his disordered dress more after the manner in which Odalie wore it. Hamish, as directed, took Stuart's arm as they went out, his eyes still full of tears, and for his life he could not control the tremor of emotion, not of fear, in the fibers of his hand, which he was sure the officer must note. But Stuart's attention was fixed on the skies. It was later than in those days when Odalie was wont to keep tryst with Choo-qualee-qualoo, now nearly a month ago. Still he fancied that in the afterglow of the sunset the Indians might discern the color and the style of the costume. Now and then a ball flew from the cannon to the woods, to clear the forest of too close observers,--whatever risk there was must needs be dared. The cannoneers summoned to this queer duty looked at "Mrs. MacLeod" curiously, as she slipped through the embrasure and made her way with a swinging agility down the slope amongst the fraises and then off through the gloaming at a fresh, firm pace. Then they gazed at Stuart, who presently bade them cease firing, and they had no excuse to wait to see her return. A queer move, they thought it, a very queer move!