The great gate was thrown wide, and the four entered quickly, to be
surrounded at once by a multitude, eager for news of the outside world,
from which they had been shut off so long. Torches, held aloft, cast a
flickering light over young soldiers in faded uniforms, men in deerskin,
and women in home-made linsey. Colden, and his two lieutenants, Wilton
and Carson, stood together. They were thin, and their faces brown, but
they looked wiry and rugged. Colden shook Robert's hand with great
energy.

"I'm tremendously glad to see you," he exclaimed, "and I'm equally glad
to see Mr. Willet, the great Onondaga, and Black Rifle. You're the first
messengers from the outside world in more than a month. What news of
victory do you bring? We heard that a great army of ours was marching
against Duquesne."

Robert did not answer. He could not, because the words choked in his
throat, and a silence fell over the crowd gathered in the court, over
soldiers and men and women and children alike. A sudden apprehension
seized the young commander and his lips trembled.

"What is it, Lennox, man?" he exclaimed. "Why don't you speak? What is
it that your eyes are telling me?"

"They don't tell of any victory," replied Robert slowly.

"Then what do they tell?"

"I'm sorry, Colden, that I have to be the bearer of such news. I would
have told it to you privately, but all will have to know it anyhow, and