te of De Croix, I would ride at her
side on the morrow, within striking distance of any prowling hostile.
Let the Matherson girl wait; my arm belonged first of all to the
defence of Mademoiselle.

Busied with these thoughts, and endeavoring to adjust this decision
with my conscience, I passed out upon the platform, that I might look
forth once more upon the moonlit waters of the lake. There were a few
dim figures to be seen, leaning over the logs; but I supposed them to
be members of the night-guard, and, feeling no desire for
companionship, I halted in a lonely spot at the northeastern corner of
the stockade. How desolate, how solemnly impressive, was the scene!
To the north all was black in the dense night, the shadows of the
scattering trees obscuring the faint glow of the moon and yielding
little of detail to the searching eye. Even the single ray of light
which the evening previous had blazed forth as a friendly beacon from
the Kinzie home, was now absent. I could vaguely distinguish the dim
outlines of the deserted house in the distance, and noticed a large
boat moored close to the bank beneath the Fort stockade,--doubtless the
one in which the fugitives expected to venture out upon the lake on the
morrow.

It was the wide stretch of water, gleaming like silver, that fascinated
me, as it always did in its numberless changing moods. What
unutterable loneliness spoke to the soul in those unknown leagues of
tossing sea! how far the eye wandered unchecked, searching vainly for
aught to rest upon other than glistening surge or darkling hollow! The
mystery of the ages lay unexpressed in those tossing billows, sweeping
in out of the black east, making low moan to the unsympathetic and
unheeding sky. Deeper and deeper the spirit of unrest, of doubt, of
brooding discontent, weighed down upon me as I gazed; life seemed as
aimless as that constant turmoil yonder, a mere silver-tinted heaving,
destined to burst in useless power on a shore of rock, and then roll
back again into the mighty deep.

I leaned over the palisades, sunk deep in revery of home, recalling one
by one the strange incidents of the last month that had so curiously
conspired to cause a total upheaval of my life; and for the moment I
grew oblivious of my surroundings. A mere lad, knowing little of
himself and less of life, had ridden westward from the Maumee; a man,
in thought and character, leaned now over that beleaguered stockade of
Dearborn.