we
eat. Then a few hours' sleep will restore your nerves; you are all
worn out."

We had nearly completed the meal, seated around what remained of the
shattered table. I do not recall what we conversed about, if indeed we
conversed at all. My own thoughts, rambling as they were, centered on
Eloise, and my desire to bring her safely to the Ottawa fort. How
white and drawn the poor girl's face looked in the bright daylight; and
how little of the food on her plate she was able to force down. What
intense weariness found expression in those eyes which met mine. And
she continued to try so hard to appear cheerful, to speak lightly. It
was pitiful. Yet in spite of all this never to my sight had she seemed
more attractive, more sweet of face. I could not remove my eyes from
her, nor do I think she was unobservant, for a tinge of red crept
slowly into the white cheeks, and a new light flashed across at me from
beneath the shadowing lashes.

The boy Asa sat at the very end of the table, facing the open door,
eating as though he had not tasted food for a week. He was a homely,
uninteresting lout, but Tim had compelled him to wash, and in
consequence his freckled face shone, and the wet shock of hair appeared
more tousled than ever. From the time of sitting down he had scarcely
raised his eyes from off the pewter plate before him; but at last this
was emptied, and he lifted his head, to stare out through the open
door. Into his face came a look of dumb, inarticulate fright, as his
lips gave utterance to one cry of warning.

"Look! Look!"

With swift turn of the head I saw what he meant--a man on horseback,
riding at a savage gait up the trail, directly for the cabin, bent so
low in the saddle his features could not be discerned, but, from his
clothing, unquestionably white. I was without the door, Tim beside me
rifle in hand, when the fellow swept around the base of the oak, still
staring behind him, as though in fright of pursuers, and flogging his
straining horse with the end of a rein. He appeared fairly crazed with
fear, unaware in his blind terror of the close proximity of the cabin.

"Hold on!" I yelled, springing forward, my arms thrown up, directly in
the animal's course. "Stop, you fool!"

I know not whether the frantic horse checked itself, or if the rider
drew rein, but the beast stopped, half rearing, and I gazed with
amazement into the revealed face of the man--he was Joe Kirby. Before
I could