"'T was no more than curiosity that urged my question," I answered,
assuming not to notice his bravado. "I was so deeply interested in other
things as to have forgotten her presence."

"Something no lady is ever likely to forgive," he interjected. "But what
think you they propose doing with us here?"

As if in direct answer to his question, the young officer who had met us
without now elbowed his way through the throng, until he stood at our
horses' heads.

"Gentlemen," he said, with a quick glance into our faces, "dismount and
come within. There is but little to offer you here at Dearborn, we have
been cut off from civilization so long; but such as we possess will be
shared with you most gladly."

De Croix chatted with him in his easy, familiar manner, as we slowly
crossed the parade; while I followed them in silence, my thoughts upon
the disappearance of Toinette and the Frenchman's sudden show of
animosity. My glance fell upon the groups of children scattered along
our path, and I wondered which among them might prove to be Roger
Matherson's little one. At the entrance of one of the log houses
fronting the parade,--a rather ambitious building of two stories, if I
remember rightly, with a narrow porch along its front,--an officer was
standing upon the step, talking with a sweet-faced woman who appeared
scarce older than seventeen.

"Lieutenant Helm," said Ronan, politely, "this is Captain de Croix, of
the French army."