ayers she could remember,
interspersing them with thanksgivings to the good God and to Owaissa.

Something black and awful loomed up before her. She uttered a cry.

"We are here. It is nothing to be afraid of. We go around to this side,
so. There is a little basin here, and a sort of wharf. It is almost a
fort;" and he laughed lightly as he helped her out on to dry ground,
stony though it was.

"I will find the gate. The White Chief has this side well picketed, and
there are enough within to defend it against odds, if the odds ever
come. Now, here is the gate and I must ring. Do not be frightened, it is
always closed at dusk."

The clang made Jeanne jump, and cling to her guide.

There was a step after a long while. A plate was pushed partly aside and
a voice said through the grating:--

"What is it?"

"It is I, Wanita, Loudac. I have some one who has been in danger, a
little maid from Detroit, stolen away by Indians. My mistress Owaissa
begs shelter for her until she can be returned. It was late when she was
rescued from her enemies and we stole away by night."

"How many of you?"

"The maid and myself, and--our canoe," with a light laugh. "The canoe is
fastened to a stake. And I must go back, so there is but one to throw
upon your kindness."

"Wait," said the gate keeper. There were great bolts to be withdrawn and
chains rattled. Presently the creaking gate opened a little way and the
light of a lantern flared out. Jeanne was dazed for an instant.

"I will not come in, good Loudac. It is a long way back and my mistress
may need me. Here is the maid," and he gave Jeanne a gentle push.

"From Detroit?" The interlocutor was a stout Canadian and seemed
gigantic to Jeanne. "And 'scaped from the Indians. Lucky they did not
spell, it with another letter and leave no top to thy head. Wanita, lad,
thou hadst better come in and have a sup of wine. Or remain all night."

But Wanita refused with cordial thanks.

"Here is the ring;" and Jeanne pressed it in his hand. "And a thousand
thanks, tell your brave mistress."

With a quick adieu he was gone.

"I must find shelter for you to-night, for our lady cannot be
disturbed," he said. "Come this way."

The bolts and chains were put in place again. Jeanne followed her guide
up some steps and through another gate. There was a lodge and a light
within. A woman in a short gown of blue and a striped petticoat looked
out of the doorway and made a sharp inquiry.

"A m