ded in the
snow likewise caught it, and swung their hats at the notion of taking
the Hair Buyer.

"'Tis no news to me," said Terence, stamping his feet on the flinty
ground; "wasn't it Davy that pointed him out to us and the hair liftin'
from his head six months since?"

"Und you like schwimmin', yes?" said Swein Poulsson, his face like the
rising sun with the cold.

"Swimmin', is it?" said Terence, "sure, the divil made worse things than
wather. And Hamilton's beyant."

"I reckon that'll fetch us through," Bill Cowan put in grimly.

It was a blessed thing that none of us had a bird's-eye view of that
same water. No man of force will listen when his mind is made up, and
perhaps it is just as well. For in that way things are accomplished.
Clark would not listen to Monsieur Vigo, and hence the financier had,
perforce, to listen to Clark. There were several miracles before we
left. Monsieur Vigo, for instance, agreed to pay the expenses of the
expedition, though in his heart he thought we should never get to
Vincennes. Incidentally, he was never repaid. Then there were the
French--yesterday, running hither and thither in paroxysms of fear;
to-day, enlisting in whole companies, though it were easier to get to
the wild geese of the swamps than to Hamilton. Their ladies stitched
colors day and night, and presented them with simple confidence to the
Colonel in the church. Twenty stands of colors for 170 men, counting
those who had come from Cahokia. Think of the industry of it, of the
enthusiasm behind it! Twenty stands of colors! Clark took them all,
and in due time it will be told how the colors took Vincennes. This was
because Colonel Clark was a man of destiny.

Furthermore, Colonel Clark was off the next morning at dawn to buy a
Mississippi keel-boat. He had her rigged up with two four-pounders and
four swivels, filled her with provisions, and called her the Willing.
She was the first gunboat on the Western waters. A great fear came into
my heart, and at dusk I stole back to the Colonel's house alone. The
snow had turned to rain, and Terence stood guard within the doorway.

"Arrah," he said, "what ails ye, darlin'?"

I gulped and the tears sprang into my eyes; whereupon Terence, in
defiance of all military laws, laid his gun against the doorpost and
put his arms around me, and I confided my fears. It was at this critical
juncture that the door opened and Colonel Clark came out.

"What's to do here?" he demanded