e men, floaters
at best, were in this miscellaneous outpouring of militia; indeed it
was almost certain there would be some officers among them, as well as
enlisted men.

As my thought grasped these facts, they led to the only possible
decision. I would venture forward, rather blindly trusting that good
fortune might direct my steps aright. I would have to discover first
of all, where Kirby had taken Eloise--into whose hands he had deposited
the girl for safe keeping. This task ought not to be difficult. The
settlement was small, and the camp itself not a large one; no such
party could hope to enter its confines without attracting attention,
and causing comment. There was but slight discipline, and the majority
of the soldiery were simple-hearted, honest fellows who could be easily
induced to talk. Once I had thus succeeded in locating her, the rest
ought to prove comparatively easy--a mere matter of action. For I had
determined to play the spy no longer; to cease being a mere shadow. To
my mind the excuse for masquerade no longer existed. The two fugitives
were already safely on their way toward Canada, beyond any possibility
of pursuit; and, from now on, I could better play my game in the open,
confident that I held the winning hand in my knowledge of the girl's
identity.

So I proposed finding Eloise, and telling her the whole truth;
following that, and assured of her support, I would defy Kirby,
denounce him if necessary to the military authorities, identifying
myself by means of my army commission, and insist on the immediate
release of the girl. The man had broken no law--unless the wanton
killing of Shrunk could be proven against him--and I might not be able
to compel his arrest. Whatever he suspected now relative to his
prisoner, he had originally supposed her to be his slave, his property,
and hence possessed a right under the law to restrain her liberty. But
even if I was debarred from bringing the man to punishment, I could
break his power, and overturn his plans. Beyond that it would be a
personal matter between us; and the thought gave me joy. Certainly
this method of procedure looked feasible to me; I saw in it no
probability of failure, for, no matter how many friends the gambler
might have in camp, or the influence they could exert in his behalf,
they could never overcome the united testimony I was now able to
produce. The mere statement of the girl that she was Eloise Beaucaire
would b