testing the squared log beneath me with careful foot and keeping hold
with one hand upon the sharpened palisades, I began to believe the
corporal had been mistaken. The door, closing behind, shut off the
last gleam of light, and I was left alone in utter darkness and
silence, save for the low rumble of voices within the Fort enclosure,
and the soft plashing below where the river current kissed the bank at
the foot of the stockade.

I had gone almost the full length of that side, before I came where she
was leaning against the logs, her chin resting upon one hand, her gaze
turned northward. Indeed, so silent was she, so intent upon her own
thought, I might have touched her unnoticed in the gloom, had not the
stars broken through a rift in the cloud above us, and sent a sudden
gleam of silver across her face.

"Mademoiselle," I said, striving to address her with something of the
ease I thought De Croix would exercise at such a moment, "I meant not
to intrude upon your privacy, yet I am most glad to meet with you once
more."

She started slightly, as though aroused from reverie, and glanced
inquiringly toward me.

"I supposed my visitor to be one of the guard," she said pleasantly;
"and even now I am unable to distinguish your face, yet the sound of
the voice reminds me of John Wayland."

"I am proud to know that it has not already been forgotten. You
deserted me so suddenly this afternoon, I almost doubted my being
welcome now."