ween his upthrust shoulders, his hands in his pockets, his uncanny
eyes gazing steadily at Farnsworth. He looked like a deformed frog
ready to jump.

Alice unmistakably saw truth in the Captain's countenance and felt it
in his voice. The reality came to her with unhindered effect. M.
Roussillon's life depended upon the return of the flag. She put her
hands together and for a moment covered her eyes with them.

"I will go now, Mademoiselle," said Farnsworth; "but I hope you will be
in great haste about returning the flag."

He stood looking at her. He was profoundly touched and felt that to say
more would be too brutal even for his coarse nature; so he simply
lifted his hat and went away.

Jean took hold of Alice's dress as she turned to go back into the house.

"Is he going to take the flag? Can he find it? What does he want with
it? What did you do with the flag, Alice?" he whined, in his peculiar,
quavering voice. "Where is it?"

Her skirt dragged him along as she walked.

"Where did you put it, Alice?"

"Father Beret hid it under his floor," she answered, involuntarily, and
almost unconsciously. "I shall have to take it back and give it up."

"No--no--I wouldn't," he quavered, dancing across the veranda as she
quickened her pace and fairly spun him along. "I wouldn't let 'em have
it at all."

Alice's mind was working with lightning speed. Her imagination took
strong grip on the situation so briefly and effectively sketched by
Captain Farnsworth. Her decision formed itself quickly.

"Stay here, Jean. I am going to the fort. Don't tell Mama Roussillon a
thing. Be a good boy."

She was gone before Jean could say a word. She meant to face Hamilton
at once and be sure what danger menaced M. Roussillon. Of course, the
flag must be given up if that would save her foster father any pain;
and if his life were in question there could not be too great haste on
her part.

She ran directly to the stockade gate and breathlessly informed a
sentinel that she must see Governor Hamilton, into whose presence she
was soon led. Captain Farnsworth had preceded her but a minute or two,
and was present when she entered the miserable shed room where the
commander was having another talk with M. Roussillon.

The meeting was a tableau which would have been comical but for the
pressure of its tragic possibilities. Hamilton, stern and sententious,
stood frowning upon M. Roussillon, who sat upon the ground, his feet
and hands ti