--the whole town was on the
lawn there----"

He wiped his clammy face and moistened his lips; above us, in the
wooden tower, the clamor of the bell never ceased.

"She spoke to me, asking for news of you. I--I had no news of you to
tell her. Then an officer--Captain Little--fell a-bawling for the
Rangers to fall in, and Billy Laird, Jack Shew, Sammons, and me--we had
to go. So I fell in, sir; and the last I saw she was standing there and
looking at the reddening sky----"

Blindly, almost staggering, I pushed past him, stumbling down the
ladder, across the yard, and into the lower corridor of the jail. There
were women a-plenty there; some clung to my arm, imploring news; some
called out to me, asking for husband or son. I looked blankly into face
after face, all strangers; I mounted the stairs, pressing through the
trembling throng, searching every whitewashed corridor, every room;
then to the cellar, where the frightened children huddled, then out
again, breaking into a run, hastening from blockhouse to blockhouse,
the iron voice of the bell maddening me!

"Captain Renault! Captain Renault!" called out a militiaman, as I
turned from the log rampart.

The man came hastening toward me, firelock trailing, pack and sack
bouncing and flopping.

"My wife has news of your lady," he said, pointing to a slim, pale
young woman who stood in the doorway, a shawl over her wind-blown hair.

I turned as she advanced, looking me earnestly in the face.

"Your lady was in the fort late last night, sir," she began. A fit of
coughing choked her; overhead the dreadful clangor of the bell dinned
and dinned.

Dumb, stunned, I waited while she fumbled in her soiled apron, and at
last drew out a crumpled letter.

"I'll tell you what I know," she said weakly. "We had been to the Hall;
the sky was all afire. My little boy grew frightened, and she--your
sweet lady--she lifted him and carried him for me--I was that sick and
weak from fright, sir----"

A fit of coughing shook her. She handed me the letter, unable to
continue.

And there, brain reeling, ears stunned by the iron din of the bell
which had never ceased, I read her last words to me:

"Carus, my darling, I don't know where you are. Please God, you are
not at Oswaya, where they tell me the Indians have appeared above
Varicks. Dearest lad, your Oneida came with your letter. I could
not reply, for there were no expresses to go to you. Colonel
Willett ha