he gown hath served fairly for
the trouble."

"Hath D'Aulnay many men?"

"He is well equipped."

Edelwald took the packet from his belt and gave it to her. Marie broke
the thread and sat down on the settle, spreading D'Aulnay's paper to the
firelight. She read it in silence, and handed it to Edelwald. He leaned
toward the fire and read it also.

D'Aulnay de Charnisay demanded the surrender of Fort St. John with all
its stores, ammunition, moneys and plate, and its present small
garrison. When Edelwald looked up, Marie extended her hand for the
dispatch and threw it into the fire.

"Let that be his answer," said Edelwald.

"If we surrender," spoke the lady of the fort, "we will make our own
terms."

"My lady, you will not surrender."

As she looked at Edelwald, the comfort of having him there softened the
resolute lines of her face into childlike curves. Being about the same
age she felt always a youthful comradeship with him. Her eyes again
filled.

"Edelwald, we have lost ten men."

"D'Aulnay has doubtless lost ten or twenty times as many."

"What are men to him? Cattle, which he can buy. But to us, they are
priceless. To say nothing of your rank, Edelwald, you alone are worth
more than all the armies D'Aulnay can muster."

He sheltered his face with one hand as if the fire scorched him.

"My lady, Sieur Charles would have us hold this place. Consider: it is
his last fortress except that stockade."

"You mistake him, Edelwald. He would save the garrison and let the fort
go. If he or you had not come to-night I must have died of my
troubles."

She conquered some sobbing, and asked, "How does he bear this despair,
Edelwald? for he knew it must come to this without help."

"He was heartsick with anxiety to return, my lady."

She leaned against the back of the settle.

"Do not say things to induce me to sacrifice his men for his fort."

"Do you think, my lady, that D'Aulnay would spare the garrison if he
gets possession of this fort?"

"On no other condition will he get the fort. He shall let all my brave
men go out with the honors of war."

"But if he accepts such terms--will he keep them?"

"Is not any man obliged to keep a written treaty?"

"Kings are scarce obliged to do that."

"I see what you would do," said Marie, "and I tell you it is useless.
You would frighten me with D'Aulnay into allowing you, our only
officer, and these men, our only soldiers, to ransom this fort with your
live