seen in the night. From the Jesuit
College across the true bed of the Okaw a dam had formed, probably
having for its base part of the bridge masonry. Whole trees were swept
into the barricade. "We cannot now cross diagonally and come back
through the dead water at our leisure, for there is that dam to be
passed. Pull for the old college."

The boat was therefore turned, and thus took the same course that the
girls had taken. The current was at right angles with its advance,
though the houses on the north somewhat broke that force. The roofless
building, ridiculously shortened in its height, had more the look of a
fortress than when it was used as one. The walls had been washed out
above both great entrances, making spacious jagged arches through which
larger craft than theirs could pass. Colonel Menard was quick to see
this; he steered and directed his men accordingly. The Jesuit College
was too well built to crumble on the heads of chance passers, though
the wind and the flood had battered it; to row through it would shorten
their course.

Angelique did not say a word about the changed aspect of her world. A
warmth in the pearly light over the bluffs promised a clear day: and how
Kaskaskia would look with the sun shining on her predicament! The boat
cut through braiding and twisting water, and shot into the college. Part
of the building's upper floor remained; everything else was gone.

The walls threw a shadow upon them, and the green flicker, dancing up
and down as they disturbed the inclosure, played curiously on their
faces. The stones suddenly echoed a slap. Tante-gra'mere's struggling
wrath, which Wachique had tried to keep bound in the coverlet, having
found an outlet, was swift as lightning in its reprisal. The stings of
the whiplash had exhilaration and dignity compared to this attack. It
was the climax of her midget rages. She forgot the breeding of a
gentlewoman, and furiously struck her slave in the face.

Wachique started up, her Pottawatomie blood painting her cheek bones.
That instant she was an Indian, not a slave. She remembered everything
this petted despot had done to her, and, lifting her bundle, threw it as
far as her arms could send it across the water floor of the college. The
pitiful little weight sunk with a gurgling sound.

"Sit down, woman!" shouted Colonel Menard.

Wachique cowered, and tried to obey. But the motion she had given the
boat was not to be overcome. It careened, and the w