He was a tall, dark-featured man, smoothly shaven, as swarthy as an Indian, with stern dark eyes, thick coarse hair, and an abrupt manner born of long command. His companion, of lighter build and younger face, was attired in a travel-stained uniform of blue and buff; but he who was evidently the leader was so completely wrapped within the folds of a riding-cloak as to reveal nothing of rank other than his unmistakable military presence and bearing. Turning from the door, he swept a penetrating glance over us, loosening the clasp of his cloak as he did so. "I regret having thoughtlessly interrupted your quarrel, gentlemen," he said brusquely, "but this appears to be the sole excuse for a public-room in the place. However, my services are at your command if they be desired in any way." De Croix laughed, perfectly at his ease in a moment. "'Tis scarce so serious," he explained lightly. "A mere interchange of compliments over the respective merits of our nations in war." The stranger looked at him intently, and with some manifest disapproval. "And yours, no doubt, was France," he said shortly. De Croix bowed, his hand upon his heart. "I have worn her uniform, Monsieur." "I thought as much, and fear my sympathies may be altogether with your antagonist in the controversy. Yet what's the use of wasting life like that? Surely there is fighting enough in this world of ours for such young blades, without inventing cause for quarrel. Come, sit down once more, and join with us in whatsoever cheer our landlord may provide." As he spoke, he flung aside his cloak, revealing beneath merely the well-worn dress of a frontiersman, with an army sword-belt buckled about the waist. "Come, Walter," he called to his companion, who remained standing, "there is to be no touch of ceremony here to-night. Gentlemen, I am Captain Wells, formerly of the army, now Indian agent at Fort Wayne; and this is Sergeant Jordan." The Frenchman bowed gracefully, and extended a card across the table. The other glanced at it carelessly. "Ah! De Croix; pleased to meet you. Think I heard some of our officers speak of seeing you a month ago at Detroit,--McBain or Ramsey, I have forgotten which." "I recall a game of cards with a Lieutenant Ramsey, a rather choleric Scotchman, with a magnificent capacity for strong whiskey." The Captain turned inquiringly toward me, and I hastened to name myself. "Wayland, did you say?" he asked, with deepened interest. "'Tis not a common appellation, yet I once knew a Major by that name in Wayne's command." "My father, sir," I asserted proudly. With quick impulsiveness he extended his hand. "As noble a soldier as I have ever known," he exclaimed heartily. "I served with him in two campaigns. But what are you two young fellows doing here? for it would be hard to conceive of a more disheartening place of residence. Surely, De Croix, you are not permanently located in this delightful spot?"