nce when the
new army approached.

"My poor people are not disloyal to your flag and your cause," said
good Father Beret next morning to Captain Helm, "but they are
powerless. Winter is upon us. What would you have us do? This rickety
fort is not available for defense; the men are nearly all far away on
the plains. Isn't it the part of prudence and common sense to make the
best of a desperate situation? Should we resist, the British and their
savage allies would destroy the town and commit outrages too horrible
to think about. In this case diplomacy promises much more than a
hopeless fight against an overwhelming force."

"I'll fight 'em," Helm ground out between his teeth, "if I have to do
it single-handed and alone! I'll fight 'em till hell freezes over!"

Father Beret smiled grimly, as if he, too, would enjoy a lively
skirmish on the ice of Tophet, and said:

"I admire your courage, my son. Fighting is perfectly proper upon fair
occasion. But think of the poor women and children. These old eyes of
mine have seen some terrible things done by enraged savages. Men can
die fighting; but their poor wives and daughters--ah, I have seen, I
have seen!"

Beverley felt a pang of terror shoot through his heart as Father
Beret's simple words made him think of Alice in connection with an
Indian massacre.

"Of course, of course it's horrible to think of," said Helm; "but my
duty is clear, and that flag," he pointed to where la banniere d'Alice
Roussillon was almost blowing away in the cold wind, "that flag shall
not come down save in full honor."

His speech sounded preposterously boastful and hollow; but he was
manfully in earnest; every word came from his brave heart.

Father Beret's grim smile returned, lighting up his strongly marked
face with the strangest expression imaginable.

"We will get all the women inside the fort," Helm began to say.

"Where the Indians will find them ready penned up and at their mercy,"
quickly interpolated the priest "That will not do."

"Well, then, what can be done?" Beverley demanded, turning with a
fierce stare upon Father Beret. "Don't stand there objecting to
everything, with not a suggestion of your own to offer."

"I know what is best for my people," the old man replied softly, still
smiling, "I have advised them to stay inside their houses and take no
part in the military event. It is the only hope of averting an
indiscriminate massacre, and things worse."

The curt phrase