oles
were, he knew, justly exasperated, and even his own men had been
showing a spirit which might easily be fanned into a dangerous flame of
vengeance. He was very anxious to have the formalities of taking
possession of the fort over with, so that he could the better control
his forces. Sending for Beverley he assigned him to the duty of hauling
down the British flag and running up that of Virginia. It was an honor
of no doubtful sort, which under different circumstances would have
made the Lieutenant's heart glow. As it was, he proceeded without any
sense of pride or pleasure, moving as a mere machine in performing an
act significant beyond any other done west of the mountains, in the
great struggle for American independence and the control of American
territory.

Hamilton stood a little way from the foot of the tall flag-pole, his
arms folded on his breast, his chin slightly drawn in, his brows
contracted, gazing steadily at Beverley while he was untying the
halyard, which had been wound around the pole's base about three feet
above the ground. The American troops in the fort were disposed so as
to form three sides of a hollow square, facing inward. Oncle Jazon,
serving as the ornamental extreme of one line, was conspicuous for his
outlandish garb and unmilitary bearing. The silence inside the stockade
offered a strong contrast to the tremendous roar of voices outside.
Clark made a signal, and at the tap of a drum, Beverley shook the ropes
loose and began to lower the British colors. Slowly the bright emblem
of earth's mightiest nation crept down in token of the fact that a
handful of back-woodsmen had won an empire by a splendid stroke of pure
heroism. Beverley detached the flag, and saluting, handed it to Colonel
Clark. Hamilton's breast heaved and his iron jaws tightened their
pressure until the lines of his cheeks were deep furrows of pain.

Father Beret, who had just been admitted, quietly took a place at one
side near the wall. There was a fine, warm, benignant smile on his old
face, yet his powerful shoulders drooped as if weighted down with a
heavy load. Hamilton was aware when he entered, and instantly the scene
of their conflict came into his memory with awful vividness, and he saw
Alice lying outstretched, stark and, cold, the shining strand of hair
fluttering across her pallid cheek. Her ghost overshadowed him.

Just then there was a bird-like movement, a wing-like rustle, and a
light figure flitted sw