The Story of Old Fort Loudon Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  Breakfast, the rigorous cleaning of the quarters, guard mounting, andinspection, followed in their usual sequence, but the morning drillswere omitted to give the opportunity to recruit from the vigils of theprevious night, protracted, as the soldiers began to suspect, that theymight be in readiness to respond to an onslaught of the savages. ForCaptain Stuart made no effort to restrain the story of the scene at thegate, since the sentries were already cognizant of it; he always saw fitto maintain before the troops an attitude of extreme frankness, as ifthe officers suppressed no intelligence, whatever its character, evenwith the intention of conducing to the public good.

  In the great hall in the block-house of the northwestern bastion, whenthe officers were congregated about the fire, in the rude arm-chairs,and their pipes lighted, he divulged without reserve the news which theexpress had brought. In an instant all the garnered sweetness of theretrospect of the little holiday they had made for themselves and theirco-exiles was turned to gall. It even held bitter dregs of remorse.

  "And we were dancing all the night through while you knew this horriblething!" exclaimed Captain Demere, his voice tense with reproach.

  "Lord!--it happened three weeks ago, Paul," returned Stuart, "if ithappened at all! Some of the settlers had already come. I did not feelqualified to balk the children and the young people of theirenjoyment--or the elders, either. The world will go on after suchtragedies. It must, you know." He pulled at his pipe, meditatively. "Tohave called a halt could have done those poor fellows no good," henodded toward the south, "and might have done us incalculable harm.There had already been a demonstration of the Indians, before theexpress came in, because they had noticed the gathering of the guests,and I thought the settlers safer congregated in the fort until daybreakthan going home scattered through the night. This is no time or place togive ceremonious deference to questions of feeling."

  "Was there a demonstration of the Indians last night, Captain?" askedLieutenant Gilmore.

  Stuart detailed both occurrences at the gate. "Without the chief'sguaranty I don't see how we could have let the settlers go thismorning," he concluded.

  Demere frowned deeply as he sat upright in his chair and gazed at thefire.

  "You have great presence of mind in these queer emergencies, John," hesaid. "For my life I could not have thought how to get rid of thempeaceably--to offer to open the gates!"

  "I can't soothe the Indians," said Ensign Whitson, with a quick flush."My gorge rises at the very sight of them."

  "If a dog licks my hand, I must needs pat him on the head," said Stuart,lounging easily among the soft rugs that covered the chair.

  "But if a wolf licks your hand, sir, would you pat him on the head?"asked the ensign.

  "A wolf will not lick my hand," retorted the superior officer. "Besides,my young friend, bear this in mind,--if this dog is not patted on thehead, he will fly not only at my throat, but at the throat of thegarrison and of the settlement as well."

  There was silence for a time, while the flames of the great fire sprangelastically upward in the strong draught with an impetuous roar. Theholly boughs and the banners stirred fitfully on the wall. The men'sheads were surrounded by tobacco smoke. Demere sat upright, meditative,with one elbow on the table. Stuart was lolling far back in the soft furrugs that covered the great chair, his hat on the floor behind him,where it had fallen off his dense, blond hair, which so much attractedthe curiosity and admiration of the swarthy Indians.

  "And then," he said suddenly, drawing some official letter-books andfiles from the table, and fluttering the pages with one hand while heheld the pipe-stem with the other, "were we not admonished to bediplomatic in such matters? We had our orders to cultivate the graces ofour manners! The Earl of Loudon desired that we should," and he began toread aloud, "'You can best retain our confidence by promoting, in everyway in your power, the preservation of peace with the Cherokees.'"

  He shoved the papers away on the table, and laughing, put the stem ofhis pipe between his teeth.

  "Now," he said, "I am as much disposed toward peace as a man of war maydecently be. I only wish my lord could have won Oconostota to hislordship's pacific way of thinking. A garrison of two hundred soldiersis not likely to prove very overbearing to a neighbor who can musterthree thousand fighting men armed with British muskets. My lord's advicewas timely."

  He glanced with raillery at Demere, and laughed again.

  While the individual soldier is but a factor in a great machine, andmoves only as one motor element acts and reacts on another, makingnaught of his own volition or intelligence, it being his "to do anddie," the courage and strength of character which make this abnegationof will and mind possible are the greater from the fact that thereasoning faculties cannot by the same process be annulled. He sees theconvergence of the circumstances drawing to the event; whetherconsciously or not he deliberates upon the validity of the policyunfolded; he often goes to meet disaster, perceiving its undisguisedapproach from afar off. And yet he goes unfalteringly.

  "When our government armed these savage fiends against theFrench,--civilized men and 'palefaces' like ourselves," said CaptainDemere, "and the American colonists fought with them as allies, side byside, despite their hideous barbarities, we fell upon our own sword."

  "Honors are easy," returned Captain Stuart, lightly. "Have the Frencharmed no Indian allies? Did they not do it first?"

  "We are not wont to look so far afield for our warrant," Demere retortedtestily. Then resuming: "These barbarous beasts are no fit allies forEnglish arms. They degrade our spirit, and destroy our discipline, anddisgrace our victories. I would rather suffer any honorable defeat thanwin through their savageries."

  He was unconsciously the advance guard of that sentiment which causedthe Earl of Chatham, nearly twenty years afterward, to declare in theHouse of Lords that it was a reflection on the honor of the nation thatthe scalping-knife and the tomahawk should be the aids of the Britishfirelock and sword, and wreak their savage deeds under the sanction ofthe same brave banner; but even then Lord Gower was able to retort that,when still Mr. Pitt the "great Commoner," and the ruling spirit of theministry, he, himself, had without scruple employed American savages inwarfare. As yet, however, this objection was but a sensitive protest inthe heart and mind of an obscure officer, the commandant of a merelytemporary post on the furthest western frontier.[9]

  The papers had been pushed near Demere's elbow, and he began to lookover them disaffectedly.

  "Hear Governor Lyttleton," he said, and read in a tone that was itself acommentary: "'Use all means you think proper to induce our Indians totake up the hatchet. Promise a reward to every man who shall bring inthe scalp of a Frenchman or a French Indian.'"

  "As if one could be sure of a dead man's nationality or allegiance byseeing the hair on his scalp," said Whitson, as ever readily disgusted.

  Stuart sought to take an unprejudiced view. "I never looked upon war asa pastime or an elegant accomplishment," he declared, watching thewreaths rise from the deep bowl of his long pipe. "War is war, and whenwe call it civilized we only mean that invention has multiplied andelaborated our methods of taking life. A commander can but use thesurest means to his end against his enemy that the circumstances afford.A soldier is at best but the instrument of the times."

  "And what of the torture, the knife, the fagot?" demanded Demere,excitedly. "What do you think of them?"

  "I never, dear Captain Demere, think of them, in a garrison of twohundred men in a little mud fort on the frontier, with the Cherokeesthree thousand strong just outside, toward whom I have been admonishedto mind my pretty manners. But since you are so keen to reason it out, Iwill remind you that until comparatively recently the torture was one ofour own methods of punishment, or coercion, tending to the disclosure ofsecret conspiracies or any other little matter that the government mightwant to know and could not otherwise find out, and was practiced,thumb-screws, iron-boot, and all, in the worshipful presence of men ofhig
h estate--councils, commissions, and what not! Men and women--women,too!--have been burned alive in England under due authority becausetheir style of piety was not acceptable. They were Christians, to besure, but not exactly the highest fashion of Christian. You will say allthis was long ago. Granted! but if such practices still obtain in suchan oligarchy as Oconostota's realm,--the frontier being, paradoxically,a little in the rear of the times,--should we be surprised? No! I don'tthink of such things. I keep my mind on the discipline of the garrison,and control my temper very nicely when in the presence of the Cherokeekings, and bless God and the Earl of Loudon for the cannon at theembrasures and the powder and ball in the magazine."

  He leaned forward suddenly to examine with momentary interest the soleof his boot as he sat with his leg crossed, then with a bantering "Eh,Captain Quawl?" he glanced up with a smile of _camaraderie_ at CaptainDemere as if to test the effect of his argument, and finally laughedoutright at his friend's silent gravity.

  Such arguments were the ordinary incidents in the great hall of theblock-house of the northwest bastion. The time hung heavily on the handsof the officers of the garrison. For beyond the military routine, alittle hunting and fishing, a little card and domino playing, a littlebout now and again of fencing, there was naught to relieve themonotony, for books were few and the express with mail from over themountains infrequent, and therefore discussions in familiar conclave onabstract subjects, protracted sometimes for hours, filled the breach.Often these questions developed on paper, for a continualcorrespondence, as regular as might be compassed, was maintained withthe officers of Fort Prince George, another frontier post, estimated asthree hundred miles distant from Charlestown, yet still two hundredmiles from Fort Loudon. As a matter of public policy it was deemedexpedient that the commandants of the two posts should keep each otherinformed as to the state of the country about their respectivestrongholds, of the condition of the settlers, the temper of theIndians, the masked movements of French emissaries. In dearth ofofficial intelligence, as the express necessarily went back and forthwith mail and dispatches from Charlestown, the correspondencesympathetically expanded into personal interests, for the conditionssurrounding both posts were in many respects similar. Fort Prince Georgealso was a work designed with special reference to the military needs ofthat region and the character of its possible assailants. The defensesconsisted of a rampart of clay, eight feet high, surmounted by a strongstockade, forming a square with a bastion at each angle; four smallcannon were mounted on each bastion, and a deep ditch surrounded thewhole; there was a natural glacis where the ground fell away on twosides of the quadrangle and on the others a strong abatis had beenconstructed at a short distance from the crest of the counterscarp.Within the fort were two block-houses and barracks for a garrison of onehundred men.

  The sequestered, remote situation of each post developed a certainmutual interest and the exchange of much soldierly chaff; the names anddisposition of even the subalterns were elicited in this transmittedgossip of the forts; in default of news, details of trivial happeningswere given, unconsciously fertile in character-drawing; jokes,caricatures, good stories,--and thus at arm's length sprung up afriendship between men who had never seen one another and who werepossibly destined never to meet. Of course all this gayety of heartvanished from the paper when serious tidings or despondent prospectswere at hand, but even in the succinct official statements an undertoneof sympathy was perceptible, and the slightest nerve of thought, ofdanger, of joy, of dissatisfaction touched at Fort Loudon thrilled inkind at Fort Prince George.

  The attention of the group about the fire of the officers' mess-hall hadseldom been brought to themes so grave as the news of the recentmassacre, holding so definite and possible a personal concern, and afterthe evening of the Christmas ball life at Fort Loudon began to seem moreserious and the current event to be scanned and questioned as to aprobable bearing on the future.

  Even Odalie's optimistic mind, forever alert to hope and fair presage,felt the influence of the atmospheric change of the moral conditions.But the fact was revealed to her in an incident sufficiently startling.

  That morning after the festivity, when gayly rowing down the bleak riverto MacLeod's Station, as the bend had begun to be called, she lookedblithely enough over the stream's gray stretches of ruffled steel to thesnowy slopes of the banks, and to the brown woods, and beyond to thedark bronze and dusky blue mountains as they stretched away in varyingdistance. The dull suffusive flare of carmine beginning to show abovethem seemed a spell to drive the day-star out of the sky, to bid theweird mists hie home with the fancies of the night, to set a wind keenlyastir in a new dawn. All this she watched with eyes as clear, as soft,as confiding as if it were a May morning coming over the mountains,scattering the largesse of the spring--new life, new hopes, newstrength, and all the glad inspiration of success that has a rarer,finer flavor than the actual consummation of the triumph.

  The stationers landed at the bend, and she was glad of her home as shetook her way within the enclosure of the high stockade. She lookedaround at it, still leading the sleepy Fifine by one hand and only halfhearing Hamish's enthusiastic sketches of the boys and girls in thesettlement, with whom he had made fast friends. The snow was heavy onthe roofs of the two log cabins and the shanty of poles that served as abarn, and lay in fluffy masses between the sharp points of the palisadesand on the bare boughs of sundry great trees that Odalie had insistedshould not be cut away with the rest in the enclosure or "girdled" likethose outside in the field. The smoke still curled up lazily from thechimneys, and after she had uncovered the embers and donned her roughhomespun dress and housewifely apron and cap, and had the preparationsfor breakfast well under way, she went to the door and called aloud inthe crisp, chill air to "Dill," as Gilfillan was christened byFifine,--the name being adopted by all the family,--insisting that heshould not cook his own breakfast but join them.

  "There are going to be 'flim-flams,'" she shouted triumphantly. Thenwith a toss of the head--"Short eating!"

  It had chanced that one day when the lonely pioneer had dined with hisfellow-stationers he had remarked approvingly of certain dishes ofFrench cookery acquired from her Grand'maman's receipts--"I dunno whatye might call them flim-flams, Mrs. MacLeod, but they make powerfulshort eatin'."

  He and she and Fifine had become fast friends, and it was indeed a happychance that had thrown the lonely man into this cordial and welcomingatmosphere of home. Even his terribly ghastly head Odalie had begun toforget, so deeply did she pity him for other things,--for the loss ofwife and children and friends in the terrible Yadkin massacre; for thenear approach of age,--and stalwart as he was, it was surely coming on;for the distortions of his queer religion, which was so uncouth as to berendered hardly the comfort it might have been otherwise.

  "I can't see how you can mention it," she said one day, with wincingeyes, when he was telling Hamish, who manifested that blood-thirstyimagination peculiar to boys, how he was conscious throughout the wholeordeal of scalping; how the tomahawk hit him a clip; how the Indian, onewhom he had trusted, put his foot on his breast for a better purchase onthe knife.

  "Why, Mrs. MacLeod," Dill replied, "it makes me thankful to think hetook nothing but the scalp. If he had mended his holt a little he couldhave took my whole head, and where would I have been now!"

  "By the grace of God you would be a saint in Paradise," said Odalie,presenting the orthodox view.

  "Yes," he admitted, "I've always feared there might be more in thatnotion of the Injuns about the scalpless being shut out of heaven thanwe know about--revelation, mebbe."

  "No, no!" and horrified at this interpretation she made her meaningclear.

  After that she undertook the _role_ of missionary in some sort, and inquiet unobtrusive ways suggested bits of orthodox doctrine of muchsolace to his ruminating spirit, and sometimes on dreary, icebound dayshe and she and Fifine sat on the crudely fashioned benches before thefire and sang psalms and hymns together till the station rang with the
solemn choiring.

  "Dill" came in now, bringing his own knife for breakfast, and a verycheery face under his coonskin cap and red handkerchief, and when the"short eating" was disposed of all three men took their axes to chop upa tree for fuel, close outside the stockade, for the greatchimney-places had capacious maws, and the weather was fast hardening toa freeze.

  Presently Odalie heard the quick strokes of their axes, alternatingwith sharp clangs, the blows ringing out briskly on the icy air. Thehouse was very still. Fifine had fallen asleep on the rug before thefire, having peevishly declined the folly of being disrobed and put tobed in the daytime, to recuperate from the exhaustion attendant upon herfirst ball. As she could not stay awake without whimpering, Odalie sawwith satisfaction her little distorted countenance, round head, andchubby body collapse on the opposite side of the fireplace. Odalieherself sat down to rest for one moment on the befrilled block of woodwhich she complimented by calling a _tabouret_. Once she roused herself,smoothed out the expanse of her white apron over her blue homespundress, then careful to permit the attitude to foster no crumple in herstiff, sheer, white mob-cap on the lustrous folds of dark hair, sheleaned her head against the rude chimney.

  How long she sat there she did not know. While sleeping she saw thefaces of Indians, and when she gradually woke she thought she stillslept. For there beside the fire were the Indian faces of her dream! Shewas stifled and dumbly sought to cry out, for this was surely someterror of the nightmare. But no! without was the light of the wan wintryday, showing in a vague blear at the half-open door, and within, thedull glow of the fire, sunken now to a vermilion mass of embers. On theopposite side of the hearth lay Fifine on the rug, sleeping still, withthe sleeping cat in her arms--and between were Indian faces, the Indianfaces of her dream!

  Odalie breathed more freely, for they were women's faces--two women,muffled to the ears in red blankets, were calmly seated on the rugbefore the fire as if they had long been there gazing at her with blank,expressionless faces. She still heard the regular strokes of the axes ofthe men of the station, as just outside the stockade they resolutelypursued the chopping of the tree. She could not understand how the twowomen, unobserved by them, had slipped in at the open gate; Odalie wasable to smile faintly at a prevision of Sandy's amazement at his ownnegligence.

  One of the Indian women smiled in return, a bright-eyed demonstration,and suddenly Odalie remembered the young Cherokee beauty she had notedat the sally-port, watching the parade, the day after her arrival atFort Loudon. The other, encouraged, began to speak, and to speak inFrench--a curious, dislocated patter. Asking how she had acquired thelanguage, Odalie was informed that this was the squaw of Savanukah, andthat he had journeyed as guide and hunted much with a French trader whohad formerly dwelt at Chote, and hearing them talk the squaw, too, hadlearned.

  "And how did you know that I speak French?" asked Odalie.

  The elder woman pointed at the girl, who laughed and tucked down herhead like a child. She was obviously solicitous that Odalie shouldobserve the many strings of red beads about her neck; these she now andagain caught in her fingers and drew forward, and then looked down atthem with her head askew like a bird's. Odalie, with ready tact, let hereyes rest attentively on them, and smiled again. Her instinct ofhospitality was so strong that it was no effort to simulate the gracioushostess. It was one of Hamish's stock complaints, often preferred intheir former home when visitors were an intrusion and their longlingering a bore, that if the Enemy of Mankind himself should call,Odalie would be able to muster a smile, and request him to be seated,and offer him a fan of her best turkey feathers, and civilly hope thatthe climate of his residence was not oppressive to _him_!

  "And how do _you_ know that I am French?" she asked, with a delightfulexpression of her fascinating eyes.

  The soldier had told her,--the handsome young brave who talked to herone day at Chote,--the girl said in fairly good English. Odalie askedher name, and, as it was given, exclaimed that it was a whole sentence.Both the Cherokee women laughed at this in the pleasure of_camaraderie_, and the elder translated the name as the "Wing of theflying Whip-poor-will." The young Indian girl came to be known afterwardat MacLeod's Station as Choo-qualee-qualoo, the Cherokee word whichimitates the note of the bird. Recurring to the subject, she attemptedto describe the soldier, by way of identification, as having hair thecolor of the lace on the Captain's red coat. Odalie was able torecollect a certain smart young soldier, who as orderly had one dayaccompanied Captain Stuart on a visit of ceremony to Oconostota, at hisseat of government at Chote--old town. While the young orderly had ledthe horse of the English Captain up and down before the door of thechief's great council-house, Choo-qualee-qualoo had been set to ask himsome questions, and as she told this the little minx laughed with hersharp white teeth shining, and looked like some sly little animal,malevolent, yet merry, and of much grace. Willinawaugh, she continued,believed that he had been duped by MacLeod into affording him and hisfamily safe conduct on his journey hither, under the pretext that he wasFrench, and therefore an enemy to the English, whom Willinawaugh hated;for the newcomer, MacLeod, and his brother, had been suffered to build ahouse and settle here among the English, while if Frenchmen they wouldhave been hung as spies at the great gate of the fort or sent direct toCharlestown as prisoners. So Willinawaugh had set her to weave her toilsabout the young soldier and discover the truth from him, as he walkedthe officer's fine horse up and down, and the tall English Captain andthe great warrior, Oconostota, smoked their pipes in the councilchamber. Thus it had chanced that the unsuspicious orderly, free withhis tongue, as a young man is apt to be in the presence of a prettygirl, told all that Choo-qualee-qualoo asked to know, as far as he knewit himself, and sooth to say, a trifle further. He gave forth the factthat MacLeod was English--that is Scotch, which he made as one of thesame tribe, and so was the brother. But the wife was French--he himselfhad overheard her talking the frog-eaters' lingo--and, by George, shewas a stunner! The baby was hers, and thus a mixture of English andFrench; as for the cat, he could not undertake to pronounce upon theanimal's nationality, for he had not the pleasure of the acquaintance ofits parents.

  Choo-qualee-qualoo laid down this last proposition with a doubtinggravity, for the young man had promulgated it as if with a sense of itsimportance and a weighty soberness, although he laughed at most that hesaid himself and at everything that any one else said.

  He saw fit to remark that he did not understand how that sober-mindedSawney--meaning the Scotchman--had ever contrived to capture such a finewoman, but that was always the way with these dull prigs. Now as forsuch rattling blades as himself and his Captain--who would have beendisposed to lay the flat of his sword smartly across the shoulders ofthe orderly, could he have dreamed of mention in such irreverentfellowship--they had no chance with the women, and for his own part thismade him very sad. And he contrived to look so for about a minute, as heled the Captain's horse up and down before the door of thecouncil-house, while Choo-qualee-qualoo, at one end of his beat, stoodamong a clump of laurel and talked to him as he came and went, andWillinawaugh, in the shadowy recesses of a neighboring hut, watchedthrough the open door how his scheme took effect.

  It made him very sad, the soldier said, mournfully, for the girls tolike other fellows better than him--as they generally did!

  And Choo-qualee-qualoo broke off to say here that she did not discernwhy such preference should be, for this soldier's hair was the color ofthe Captain's gold lace on his red coat (the orderly was called"Carrots" by his comrades), and he had a face with--and at a loss shedabbled the tips of her fingers delicately about the bridge of her noseand her eyes to intimate the freckles on his fair skin, whichbeauty-spots she evidently admired.

  The Scotchman's French wife was a stunner, the orderly was good enoughto declare again, and everybody else thought so too. But he hadoverheard Captain Demere say to Captain Stuart that her husband had noright to bring her to this western wilderness, and that that terriblejourney of so ma
ny hundred miles, keeping up on foot with men, wasenough to have killed her; and Captain Stuart had replied that she wouldmake a fine pace-setter for infantry in heavy marching order. Theorderly protested that for his part, if he were a condemned fine womanlike that, he wouldn't live in a wilderness--he would run away from theScotchman and go back to wherever she came from. Handsomest eyes he eversaw--_except two eyes_!

  Here Choo-qualee-qualoo gave Odalie a broadside glance which left nodoubt as to whose eyes this exception was supposed to refer, and put twoor three strands of the red beads into her mouth, showing her narrowsharp teeth as she laughed with pleasure and pride.

  Thus it was that Odalie was apprised of the fact that she was regardedby the Indians as a French prisoner in the hands of the English, andthat the young soldier's use of the idea of capture by her husband,figuratively, as in the toils of matrimony, was literally construed.Her first impulse was to repudiate this suggestion of captivity, ofdetention against her will. Then her strong instinct of wisdom,--for shehad no foresight in the matter,--that made Hamish sometimes charge herwith being as politic as Captain Stuart himself, moved her to reservethis detail for the consideration of the commandant of the fort, asevery matter, however trivial, that bore upon the growing enmity of theCherokees toward the English amongst them, and their disposition tofraternize with the French, was important.

  The two captains listened with serious attention when she detailed thisconversation to them, having repaired to the fort for the purpose, andbeing received as a guest of much distinction in the great hall,summarily cleared of the junior officers, and, not so summarily, of theclouds of tobacco smoke. They both instantly commended her course inleaving the impression on the minds of the Indian women as it hadchanced to be made, and in dismissing them in unimpaired good humor withsome little presents--a tiny mirror set locket-wise and an ivory bobbinwound around with red thread. The women had evidently derived specialpleasure from the slyness and presumable secrecy of their interview,skulking out with a craft of concealment that completely eluded thenotice of Sandy and "Dill," and this had given Odalie a sense ofdisapprobation and repulsion.

  "Why should you care?" demanded Demere, always sympathetic with awoman's whim-whams, even when he could not feel with them. "No amount ofexplanation could enable the Indian women to comprehend the situationfrom your standpoint."

  And Captain Stuart could not restrain his laughter at her discomfiture.

  "Do you consider yourself so free, then? Do you call it freedom--in theholy _bonds_ of matrimony? I had no idea how much you object to hear theclanking of your chains!"

  As he noted her long-lashed glance of disdain,--"Doesn't the holyScripture call it a 'yoke,'" he persisted, bursting out laughing afresh.

  She would not reply but sat listening to Captain Demere, who began toreason,--"This impression on the part of the Cherokee women might affordus--I don't know how--some means of learning and frustrating thetreacherous plans of the savages. It gives us a source of informationthrough you that we can trust."

  "I don't relish the deceitful part assigned to me," she protested.

  "What would we do with any information, Mrs. MacLeod, supposing we gainaught of value," returned Demere with some haughtiness, "except to useit for the defense of the fort, and your own outlying station? Are wehere to wage war or to maintain peace?"

  She was silent, a trifle mortified because of her own mortification tobe supposed a mere captive.

  "Everybody else knows that you are the commanding officer at MacLeod'sStation," said Stuart in pretended consolation, only half smothering alaugh.

  "Besides," Demere argued, gravely, "you will never be able to convincethem of the facts. Of course you know I intend no disparagement to youwhen I say they will believe that young soldier's rodomontade inpreference to your word--being women of such extreme ignorance."

  "Why, the man ought to be gagged!" exclaimed Stuart, in delight at herseriousness.

  The color mounted to Odalie's cheek. She had but entered her twenties,and despite her matronly arrogations she felt very young, now and then.Notwithstanding her humble pioneer status, she retained much of thearistocratic traditions inherited from her "Grand'maman"; she wasbeginning to feel it a great liberty that the young orderly should haveexpressed his admiration of her, although of course he was not awarethat it would be repeated. She objected that he should know that sheknew of it.

  "I hope you will not acquaint him with the circumstances," she said,stiffly.

  "By no means," said Demere, appreciating her scruples. "That sort ofthing is beyond discipline. The men in a garrison will tell everythingthey know or think they know."

  Odalie sat for a moment longer. "I think," she said, recovering herequanimity after a fashion, "that since I immediately placed theinformation of this ludicrous _contretemps_ at your disposal, forwhatever you may make it worth, I should be promised exemption from thekind of raillery--and jokes--which Captain Stuart--frequent mention ofchains, and bond-slave, and matrimonial noose and--such things," shepaused, rising and looking at Stuart, wistfully remonstrant, for shecould but notice how her chagrin ministered to his mischievous delight.

  "How _can you_, Mrs. MacLeod!" he cried. "Captain 'Quawl' will have meclapped into irons at the first offence! And this is the vauntedtender-heartedness of women!"

  Even Captain Demere joined in the laugh at her, only becoming grave toinsist that she should not, without notice to him, divulge the fact thatshe was not French, but of Carolinian birth and parentage, and thefurther fact--and his serious face relaxed--that she, herself, was thecommandant at MacLeod's Station, and that Sandy and Hamish, Fifine and"Dill," were the mere minions of her power.

  She found discretion the better part of valor, and thought it wise tolaugh a little at herself and her own pride, although the dimples cameand went in very red cheeks, and her eyes were so bright as they restedon the merry face of the big blond officer that they might be said toflash. She diverted with difficulty Hamish's attention from CaptainDemere's half-finished map on the table at the other end of the room,over which the boy had been poring during the entire interview, and thenthey took their leave.

  Little did any of the party realize how important the mistakenimpression of the Cherokee women was to prove!