ce entered
and flung herself into a chair, where she sat quivering and breathless
when Adrienne, also much excited, came in, preceded by a stream of
patois that sparkled continuously.

"The fort is blown up!" she cried, gesticulating in every direction at
once, her petite figure comically dilated with the importance of her
statement. "A hundred men are killed, and the powder is on fire!"

She pounced into Alice's arms, still talking as fast as her tongue
could vibrate, changing from subject to subject without rhyme or
reason, her prattle making its way by skips and shies until what was
really upper-most in her sweet little heart disclosed itself.

"And, O Alice! Rene has not come yet!"

She plunged her dusky face between Alice's cheek and shoulder; Alice
hugged her sympathetically and said:

"But Rene will come, I know he will, dear."

"Oh, but do you know it? is it true? who told you? when will he come?
where is he? tell me about him!"

Her head popped up from her friend's neck and she smiled brilliantly
through the tears that were still sparkling on her long black lashes.

"I didn't mean that I had heard from him, and I don't know where he is;
but--but they always come back."

"You say that because your man--because Lieutenant Beverley has
returned. It is always so. You have everything to make you happy, while
I--I--"

Again her eyes spilled their shower, and she hid her face in her hands
which Alice tried in vain to remove.

"Don't cry, Adrienne. You didn't see me crying--"

"No, of course not; you didn't have a thing to cry about. Lieutenant
Beverley told you just where he was going and just what--"

"But think, Adrienne, only think of the awful story they told--that he
was killed, that Governor Hamilton had paid Long-Hair for killing him
and bringing back his scalp--oh dear, just think! And I thought it was
true."

"Well, I'd be willing to think and believe anything in the world, if
Rene would come back," said Adrienne, her face, now uncovered, showing
pitiful lines of suffering. "O Alice, Alice, and he never, never will
come!"

Alice exhausted every device to cheer, encourage and comfort her.
Adrienne had been so good to her when she lay recovering from the shock
of Hamilton's pistol bullet, which, although it came near killing her,
made no serious wound--only a bruise, in fact. It was one of those
fortunate accidents, or providentially ordered interferences, which
once in a while save a life.