"And pray, why not?" I questioned, a little touched by this evidence of kindness, yet firmly determined to keep my pledge to Mademoiselle. "I am a better man for such deeds than the Frenchman, and am eager to go." "So this is not your Captain de Croix?" said Captain Heald, eying me curiously. "Saint George! but he is a big fellow,--the same who made the race last night, or I mistake greatly. And what is this man's name?" "It is John Wayland," I answered, anxious to impress him favorably; "a frontiersman of the Maumee country, and fairly skilled in Indian ways. I have come to volunteer my services to go with you." "You are anxious to die? have the spirit of a Jesuit, perchance, and are ambitious of martyrdom?" "Not unusually so, sir, but I think the danger overrated by these gentlemen. At least, I am ready and willing to go." "And so you shall, lad!" cried the old soldier, striking a hand upon his knee. "You are of the race of the long rifles; I know your kind well. Not another word, William! here is a man worth any twenty of your French beaux strutting with a sword. Now we start at once, and shall have this matter settled speedily." The earliest haze of the fast-descending twilight was hovering over the level plain as we two went forth. In the west, the red tinge of the sun, which had just disappeared below the horizon, lingered well up in the sky. Against it we could see, clearly outlined in inky blackness, the distant Indian wigwams; while to the eastward the crimson light was reflected in fantastic glow upon the heaving surface of the lake. For a moment we paused, standing upon the slope of the mound on which the Fort was built, and gazed about us. There was little movement to arrest the eye. The dull, dreary level of shore and prairie was deserted; what the more distant mounds of sand or the overhanging river banks might hide of savage watchers, we could only conjecture. Seemingly the mass of Indian life, which only the day before had overflowed that vacant space, had vanished as if by some sorcerer's magic. To me, this unexpected silence and dreary barrenness were astounding; I gazed about me fairly bewildered, almost dreaming for the moment that our foes had lifted the long siege and departed while I slept. Heald no doubt read the thought in my eyes, for he laid a kindly hand upon my sleeve and pointed westward. "They are all yonder, lad, at the camp,--in council, like enough. Mark you, Wayland, how much farther to the south the limit of their camp extends than when the sun sank last night? Saint George! they must have added all of fifty wigwams to their village! They gather like crows about a dead body. It has an ugly look." "Yet 'tis strange they leave the Fort unguarded, so that the garrison may come and go unhindered. 'Tis not the usual practice of Indian warfare."