She suddenly paused, put her hand to her brow--seemed to reflect, and then turning to Wau-nan-gee, inquired why he lingered so long and wherefore he did not replace the body in the litter and depart. With a pensive and serious mien the youth, who had been still kneeling, absorbed in sorrow at the strange coldness of Mrs. Ronayne's manner, and afraid to disturb her in a distraction which he comprehended more from her looks and actions than her language, now rose, and saying something in a low tone to his companions, who had also regarded her throughout with silent surprise, the covering on which the body of the unfortunate officer reposed, was placed upon the blanket, which four of the party held extended, and at the direction of Wau-nan-gee the whole proceeded towards the forest. When this strange and dispiriting scene had terminated, Lieut. Elmsley, who felt at each moment in a greater degree the uselessness of any interference in his powerless position, was rejoiced that at least the last moments of his friend had been consoled by the presence of his wife; he was led to hope that it had been the result of a momentarily-disordered brain, on which despair had now wreaked its worst, and which, therefore, might be expected to regain a stronger if not its wonted tone when the bitterness of grief should have somewhat subsided. Proposing to prevail on Winnebeg to obtain for him a meeting with her on the morrow, when the remains of her husband should have been consigned to their rude resting-place, he returned towards his party, whom he found in the act of covering up the bodies which they had, unmolested by the Indians, brought in from the different points where they had fallen. The grave was soon filled up--a short and mournful prayer read by the officer from memory, and the party returned full of gloom, and with hearts bowed down by sorrow, to the dismantled and desolate-looking fort. CHAPTER XXVI. "This act is an ancient tale twice told." --_King John._