ave given my report, choose to see it in another way, I have
nothing to say. If they give me my liberty, in the army or out of it,
I will find La Grange. If not, I will wait."

"Why not give that up, at least, Menard?"

"If I give that up, we shall have a war with the Iroquois that will
shake New France as she has never been shaken before."

D'Orvilliers started to speak, but checked the words. Menard slung his
musket behind his shoulders.

"Wait, Menard. I don't know what to say. I must have time to think. If
you wish, I will not give notice of your arrival to the Governor. I
will leave the matter of reporting in your hands." He rose, and
fingered the papers on the table. "You see how it will look--there is
the maid--La Grange seeks your life, you seek his--"

Menard drew himself up, his hat in his hand.

"It shall be pushed to the end, Major. You know me; you know Captain
la Grange. There will be excitement, perhaps,--you may find it hard to
avoid taking one side or the other. I must ask which side is to be
yours."

D'Orvilliers winced, and for a moment stood biting his lip; then he
stepped forward and took both Menard's hands.

"You shouldn't have asked that," he said. "God bless you, Menard! God
bless you!"

Menard paused in the door, and turned.

"Shall I need a pass to enter the hospital?"

"Oh, you can't go there. La Grange is there."

"Yes; I will report to him. He shall not say that I have left it to
hearsay."

"But he will attack you!"

"No; I will not fight him until I have an answer from the Governor."

"You can't get in now until morning."

"Very well, good-night."

"You will be careful, Menard?"

The Captain nodded and left the room. Wishing to settle his thoughts,
he passed through the palisade gate and walked down the beach. The
commissary men were loading the canoes, threescore of them, that were
to carry the garrison on its westward journey. Already the twilight
was deepening, and the lanterns of the officers were dimmed by the
glow from a hundred Indian camp-fires.

From within the fort came a long bugle-call. There was a distant
rattling of arms and shouting of commands, then the tramp of feet, and
the indistinct line came swinging through the sally-port. They halted
at the water's edge, broke ranks, and took to the canoes, paddling
easily away along the shore until they had faded into shadows. A score
of Indians stood watching them, stolidly smoking stone pipes and
holding