CHAPTER XII

THE HEART OF A WOMAN

As I sat in the officers' quarters, listening to the conversation
regarding existing conditions at the Fort and the unrest among the
Indians of the border, my thoughts kept veering from sudden and
ungracious disappearance of Mademoiselle to the early seeking after
that hapless orphan child for whose sake I had already travelled so far
and entered into such danger. Evidently, if I was to aid her my quest
must be no longer interrupted.

With characteristic gallantry, De Croix had at once been attracted
toward Lieutenant Helm's young and pretty bride, and they two had
already forgotten all sense of existing peril in a most animated
discussion of the latest fashionable modes in Montreal. I was not a
little amused by the interest manifest in her soft blue eyes as she
spoke with all the art of a woman versed in such mysteries, and at the
languid air of elegance with which he bore himself. Meanwhile, I
answered as best I might the flood of questions addressed to me by the
two officers, who, having been shut out from the world so long, were
naturally eager for military news from Fort Wayne and from the seat of
government. As these partially ceased, I asked: "Has a date been set
for the abandonment of the Fort?"

"We march out upon the fifteenth," was Helm's reply, "the day after
to-morrow, unless something occurs meanwhile to change Captain Heald's
plans. I confess I dread its coming, much as I imagine a condemned man