"'T will suffice if the fair weather hold, as is likely at this season. At least it may be risked. The land trails are crowded by Indians from far-off tribes, hastening hither in hope of fight and spoils. More than a hundred came in to-day, painted for war, and angry because too late. You could not escape encountering such parties, were you to flee by trail eastward; nor would they show mercy to any white. The Silver-man has returned to his home north of the river; but 't is all that we who are friendly to him can do to keep these warriors from attacking even there. 'T is the Indians from far away that make the trouble; and these grow more numerous and powerful each day. We keep a guard at the house to save the Silver-man and his family; and were more whites to seek refuge there, we should lose all control. There is still safety at the mouth of the Saint Joseph River, and 't is there you must go. The venture must be made to-night, and by water. Is it known to any Indian that you are alive and within this camp?" "To none." "That is well; we can work best alone. Now listen. At midnight, Master Wayland, a boat, prepared for the trip, will await you, hidden under the ruins of the Agency building. The river flows under the flooring deep enough for the purpose, and I will place the boat there with my own hand. Beyond that, all must rest upon your own skill and good fortune. You will wait here," and he glanced about anxiously for some means of concealment, "lying behind those robes yonder, until the hour." "Here?" I questioned, thinking instantly of my duty to De Croix. "But I would first have speech with the Frenchman. He is my friend, Sau-ga-nash. Besides, I have left my rifle in the council lodge." The face of the savage darkened, and his eyes gleamed ominously as they roamed questioningly from my face to Toinette's. "I said you were to stay hidden here," he answered shortly, his tone showing anger, and his hand pointing at the robes. "Many of the sleeping Pottawattomies are again astir without, and you could not hope to gain the council lodge undiscovered. What care I for this Frenchman, that I should risk my life to save him? I pledge myself only to Major Wayland's son; and even if I aid you, it is on condition that you go alone." "Alone, say you?" and I rested my hand on Mademoiselle's shoulder. "I would die here, Sau-ga-nash, and by torture, before I would consent to go one step without this girl." The half-breed scowled at me, drawing his robe about him in haughty indifference. "Then be it so," he said mockingly. "'T is your own choice, I have offered redemption of my pledge." I started to utter some harsh words in answer; but before I could speak, Toinette pressed her soft palm upon my lips in protest. "Refuse him not," she murmured hastily. "'T is the only chance; for my sake, do not anger him."