mystery. Yet I lay there, my eyes peering through
the cleft in the rock, every nerve in my body throbbing. All had
been entrusted to me; it was to be my signal which would send De
Artigny, La Forest, and their Indian allies forward. I must not
fail them; I must do my part. Whatever the cost--even though it be his
life--nothing could absolve me from this duty.

The Iroquois were massing toward the center, directly in front of the
closed gates. The change in formation was made with all the
stealthiness of Indian cunning, the warriors creeping silently behind
the concealing bushes, and taking up their new positions according to
motions of their chiefs. Those having rifles loaded their weapons,
while others drew knives and tomahawks from their belts, and held them
glittering in the gray light. The white leader remained beside the big
tree, paying no apparent heed to anything excepting the stockade in
front. The daylight brightened, but mist clouds overhung the valley,
while floating wreaths of fog drifted between the great rock and the
fort gates, occasionally even obscuring the Iroquois in vaporous
folds. There was no sound, no sight, of those hidden below, waiting my
word. I seemed utterly alone.

Suddenly I started, lifting myself slightly, on one arm so as to see
more clearly. Ay, the gates were opening, slowly at first as though
the great wooden hinges made resistance; then the two leaves parted,
and I had glimpse within. Two soldiers pushed against the heavy logs,
and, as they opened wider, a dozen, or more men were revealed, leaning
carelessly on their rifles. Boisrondet, bearing gun in the hollow of
his arm stepped forward into the opening, and gazed carelessly about
over the gray, mist shrouded scene.

It was evident enough he felt no suspicion that anything more serious
than the usual Indian picket would be encountered. He turned and spoke
to the soldiers, waiting while they shouldered their rifles, and
tramped forth to join him. His back was toward the fringe of wood. The
arm of the white renegade shot into the air, and behind him the massed
Iroquois arose to their feet, crouching behind their cover ready to
spring. I reached over the rock edge, and dropped the handkerchief.

I must have seen what followed, yet I do not know; the incidents seem
burned on my memory, yet are so confused I can place them in no order.
The white renegade seemed waiting, his arm upraised. Ere it fell in
signal to dispatch his wild