n requires, and my
choice lies that way now, Mr. Hawke."

"Then come with us, by all means," assented the factor.

"Nor shall I be left behind," cried Christopher Burley, showing a spirit
that I did not think was in him. "I can handle a gun, sir."

He did not wait for permission, but borrowed a spare coat that hung on
the wall and helped himself to a serviceable musket and a supply of
powder and ball.

"Denzil, you had better go ahead and turn the men out," said the factor.
"We will follow shortly."

I was eager to do this, and, accompanied by Baptiste, I hurried from the
house. I thought with uneasiness, as I plodded across the inclosure,
that I had seen few worse storms. The snow was falling line and thick,
and a stinging, shrieking wind was already heaping it in drifts.

"The redskins will give us trouble, sir," Baptiste said ominously.

"No doubt," I assented sharply; "but we could beat off double their
numbers. Don't go and croak among the men, Baptiste."

The quarters were quite deserted, tidings of the expected attack having
emptied them, and I found all the inmates of the fort--save those on
duty--assembled near the northeast tower. These included the few Indian
employees, who were to be fully trusted. I made a quick round of the
loopholes, and learned that all was now quiet, and that no signals or
movement had been observed for several minutes. When I returned Griffith
Hawke and his little party had arrived, and I communicated the state of
affairs to them.

"It is the calm before the storm," remarked Captain Rudstone. "I'll
wager anything you like the savages are going to rush us."

We waited five minutes, standing about in scattered group, and listening
for some warning from the watch tower. It was the eve of the factor's
wedding--a fact that I recalled with bitter irony as I noted him posted
alertly in the pelting snow, musket in hand, expecting shortly to be
plunged in the thick of a bloody fray. Far across in the distance a
gleam of light twinkled in the window of Flora's room. What were her
thoughts?

A hand tapped me on the shoulder; I turned and saw Christopher Burley.

"It is worse than a London fog, this cold," he said, with chattering
teeth. "I seem to feel it in my bones. How long will we wait, Mr.
Carew?"

"That is hard to tell," I replied. "If you are freezing, go indoors."

I think he would have taken me at my word, but I had hardly spoken when
the brooding silence was shattered b