he were dead! A blackness fell over everything. She caught
Wanamee's arm for support. It was growing so dark they kept closer
together. The dead leaves rustled under their feet, now and then in an
opening they saw the sky in the soft, whitish-gray tints before it turns
to blue.

There was a shrill, prolonged whistle.

"They are coming back with news." Savignon guessed it was not cheering.
He answered through his fingers.

The two scouts came hurrying forward.

"They are gone. They must have taken some other road. The campfire is
out, the stones are missing. What shall we do?"

Rose gave a soft, appealing cry, that she vainly strove to restrain.

"We had better go on. We must stop for the night. It is too dark to find
their trail."

It seemed to Rose as if she would sink to the ground with indescribable
terror.

"Oh, do you think----" She caught Savignon's arm.

"They have started on and missed the trail," he replied, in an almost
indifferent tone, but he guessed in his heart there had been some
surprise. "We must find the old place and camp for the night. To-morrow
we will seek out the trail."

"You do not think there can have been----" Her voice faltered for very
fear.

"We had best think nothing. We should no doubt come wide of the mark.
Let us push on," to the men.

There were heavy hearts and slow steps. It seemed as if it must be
midnight when they reached the clearing, though it was not that late.
They built their fire. Cadotte and Savignon took a survey.

"Another party has been here," Cadotte exclaimed, in a whisper. "There
has been a struggle. They are carried off somewhere."

"Do not speak of it to-night. The women are tired. And Mam'selle will
have a thousand fears."

They found the others busy with fire and supper. Rose sat apart, her
face buried in her hands, a thousand wild fears chasing one another
through her mind. Life would be dreary if--if what? If he were dead? Had
he suffered long with no one to cheer? Or had he been suddenly
despatched by some marauding party? Then they would find his poor body.
Yes, to-morrow they would know all.

She did not want any supper and crept to bed, weeping out her fears in
Wanamee's arms.

They were all astir the next morning at daybreak. It was a little
cloudy. The three days had been unusually fine. Savignon had been
tracing this and that clew, and presently came upon a piece of wampum,
with a curious Huron design at one end. And a little furthe