th green yet darker. A cap of silky fur was on
his head, and his hair was clubbed in a queue behind. March and forest
battle had not dimmed the cleanliness and neatness of his attire, and,
even in defeat, he looked the gallant chevalier, without fear and
without reproach.

St. Luc was in the act of stepping into one of the long boats when a
ranger beside Robert raised his rifle and took aim squarely at the
Frenchman's heart. It was not a long shot and the ranger would not have
missed, but young Lennox at that moment stumbled and fell against him,
causing the muzzle of his weapon to be deflected so much that his bullet
struck the uncomplaining water. Robert's heart leaped up as he saw the
chevalier spring into the boat, which the stalwart Indians paddled
swiftly away.

The entire Indian fleet now drew together, and it was obviously making
for one of the little islands, so numerous in Andiatarocte, where it
would be safe until the English and Americans built or brought boats of
their own and disputed the rulership of the lake. But the rangers and
the Mohawks, eager to push the victory, rushed down to the water's edge
and sent after the flying fleet bullets which merely dropped vainly in
the water. Then they ceased, and, standing there, uttered long thrilling
shouts of triumph.

Robert had never beheld a more ferocious scene but he felt in it, too, a
sort of fierce and shuddering attraction. His veins were still warm with
the fire of battle, and his head throbbed wildly. Everything took on
strange and fantastic shapes, and colors became glaring and violent. The
moonlight, pouring down on the lake, made it a vast sea of crumbling
silver, the mountains on the farther shores rose to twice or thrice
their height, and the forests on the slopes and crests were an immense
and unbroken curtain, black against the sky.

Five or six hundred yards away hovered the Indian fleet, the canoes and
boats dark splotches upon the silver surface of the water. The island
upon which they intended to land was just beyond them, but knowing that
they were out of rifle range they had paused to look at the victorious
force, or as much of it as showed itself, and to send back the defiant
yells of a defeated, but undaunted band.

Robert clearly saw St. Luc again, standing up in his boat, and
apparently giving orders to the fleet, using his small sword, as a
conductor wields a baton, though the moonlight seemed to flash in fire
along the blade as