Colonel Clark was seated in the great drawing-room of the government house, with Rocheblave near him, a sentry at the open door, and one of the principal inhabitants standing in an humble attitude before him. Clark’s face was stern and cold, for he was yet playing a part, and desired to frighten the people of Kaskaskia to the utmost.

“Well, sir,” he said, sternly, “and so you will not confess who is the principal instigator of these Indian atrocities? Beware, for I can order you out to be shot in one minute.”

“And if you shoot me ten times over, monsieur,” said the other, in a shaking voice, “I could tell no more. I am but a poor dealer in snuff and tobacco, and know nothing of Indian plots. Ask Monsieur Rocheblave. He knows all. There was an Indian embassy came to him only yesterday evening.”

Rocheblave, at the first mention of his name, had been signaling the other to keep quiet, but in vain.

“No, you need not wink at me, monsieur; I shall tell the American General all I know. I will not be shot to please you. There were twelve chiefs from the Wabash, monsieur, with Mademoiselle Rubie, the daughter of the Grand Door,[68] and they were quartered in the old arsenal for the night, if they have not escaped.”

Clark turned grimly on Rocheblave.

“Why did I not know this, sir?”

“Indeed, monsieur le colonel, I meant no harm,” said Rocheblave, hastily; “and, indeed, these fellows are only friends of a cousin of my wife’s, Mademoiselle Rubie Roland.”

“Ruby Roland,” repeated Clark, slowly; “is that the adopted daughter of old Tabac?”

“The same, monsieur,” said the snuff-merchant, eagerly.

“Then, if she is here, I am glad,” said Clark, quietly. “You can go back home, sir; but do not stop to speak to a soul. The patrol has orders to shoot any citizen standing still in the streets. Go, and remember.”

The snuff-merchant bowed down to the very ground, and backed from the room, just as a tremendous clatter of hoofs outside announced the arrival of Ruby Roland and her cavalcade.

Clark hurried to the window, somewhat startled, and beheld the twelve stalwart Indians and the girl springing off their horses.

The sight of his boy adjutant’s uniform among them reassured him of their intentions, for Clark had grown to feel almost a superstitious confidence in this reckless lad.

He returned to his seat, then, with measured steps, for he knew the importance of preserving dignity before the stately Indians. With perfect patience he remained sitting, waiting for his new guests, while Rocheblave, who felt his position keenly, fidgeted about uneasily in his chair.

In a few minutes more the sentry at the door challenged, as the sound of moccasined feet approached.

“Let them pass, sentry,” said Clark, quietly; and into the room swept Ruby Roland, in a perfect blaze of splendor, followed by her dusky escort.

Involuntarily Clark rose, and bowed with the deepest respect to the beautiful creature. It seemed to him as if he beheld her for the first time.

It was not quite true, as he had told Frank, that Ruby had failed to leave any impression on his mind the year before,[69] when he had seen her under the disadvantages of fatigue and hunger, which had reduced her features to gauntness. Still, his own mind had been so much preoccupied at the time with his Kaskaskia scheme, that he apparently noticed little else.

Now, however, in the moment of his triumph, when this beautiful girl approached him, dressed like a princess, the bold leader, for the first time in his life, felt a curious throbbing at his heart, as he bowed before her to the very ground, at least as deep as the obsequious snuff-merchant.

To his surprise, Ruby returned the courtesy with the very least inclination of the head, then turned and addressed a few words to her retinue, who gravely seated themselves in a line on the floor, in front of the door.............