same rebels had lived
for years in dread of their lives from that desperado,
and how at the time nearly the whole population had
expressed their satisfaction and thanks to the Police
for getting rid of the outlaw, who had been killed in
resisting arrest. Now, when it suited their ends, the
latter was a martyr, and he was a malefactor. He wished
they would hurry up and shoot him out of hand, if he was
to be shot He did not know what horrible formality might
not be in store for him before they did that. But how
beautifully the sun was shining! He had hardly thought
that Battleford could be so fair to look upon.

At last he saw several breeds approaching, and one of
them carried with him an axe and a quantity of rope.

And behind the breeds, greeted by lusty acclamations from
the mob, came Louis Riel.

CHAPTER XVII

A CLOSE CALL

As the would-be priest and originator of two rebellions
approached Pasmore, the ragged, wild-eyed, clamorous
crowd made way for him. It was ludicrous to note the air
of superiority and braggadocio that this inordinately
vain and ambitious man adopted. The prisoner was standing
surrounded by his now largely augmented guard, who,
forgetful of one another's contiguity, had their many
wonderfully and fearfully made blunderbusses levelled at
him, ready to blow him into little pieces at a moment's
notice if he made the slightest attempt to resist or
escape. Great would have been the slaughter amongst the
metis if this had happened.

"Prisoner," said Riel, with a decided French accent, "you
are a spy." He fixed his dark grey eyes upon Pasmore
angrily, and jerked out what he had to say.

"I fail to see how one who wears the Queen's uniform can
be a spy," said Pasmore, undoing the leather tags of his
long buffalo coat and showing a serge jacket with the
regimental brass button on it.

"Ah, that is enough--one of the Mounted Police! What
are you doing in this camp?"

"It is I who should be asking you that question. What
are _you_ doing under arms? Another rebellion? Be warned
by me, Monsieur Riel, and stop this bloodshed as you
value your immortal soul."

He knew that through the fanatic's religion lay the only
way of reaching him at all.

But the only effect these words had upon Riel was to
further incense the arch rebel.

"Bind him, and search him," he cried.

Pasmore knew that resistance was hopeless, so quietly
submitted. Their mode of tying him was unique. They put
a ro