The officious military gentleman did not feel called upon to explain why he had retained it. Now, all the while the party was at a halt, and the agony that poor Annette was suffering may be imagined.

"Monsieur, I repeat," the girl said in a tone of agony, "it is of the utmost importance that I should reach Colonel Denison without delay. The life of one of your most valuable allies may depend upon your haste."

"Would you favour me with the name of this valuable ally?"

"Captain Stephens: he who has been made prisoner by the personal followers of the rebel chief."

"I have not heard anything about this capture," said Lieutenant Unworthy; "and it seems to me, if the thing occurred word must have reached us." This conceited block-head had not yet made a start.

"I implore you once again, monsieur, either to accompany us to the presence of the Colonel or to let us go alone. I do not see that you have any right to detain us. If harm comes to Captain Stephens you will remember that his blood must be upon your head. You are either stupid beyond words to describe, or bent upon showing your authority.

Will you come, or let me go, to the Colonel?"

"I want neither lectures nor impertinent speeches," replied the numb- skull, putting on an air of severe dignity; nevertheless it was plain that Annette had frightened him.

"Forward, march--tro-o-o-t!" and the troop set out for Camp Denison.

Whenever the word "W a-a-a-lk" came, the heart of the girl sank; but despite the anxiety and annoyance, the camps of Colonel Denison at last were in sight.

"Well, Unworthy," the Colonel said, "who are these boys you have brought in?" The Colonel was intently reading the faces of the little scouts, with his penetrating dark-grey eyes, as he asked the question.

"The largest of the two has a story about the capture of Captain Stephens, and declares a profuse interest in the affairs of that officer. I have taken the story with a pinch of salt; as I regard the two a pair of spies."

"May I speak, Colonel Denison?" the girl said, touching the brim of her broad hat respectfully.

"Most certainly, my lad. I shall be glad to hear anything that you have to say." Then turning to Unworthy,--"He looks no more like a spy than you do, man. Are you any judge of faces?"

"Well, monsieur," the girl began, her voice quivering, "l'officier,"

pointing to Unworthy, "says he believes that I am a spy. He has no ground for such a belief, but he _has_ proof which must have taught him otherwise. Inspector d.i.c.ken gave me a note of introduction to you. This note l'officier has in his pocket, having rudely taken it away from me."

"Please, Mr. Unworthy, hand me this note." And as the officer did so, Colonel Denison, knitting his brows, said, "Pray, sir, why was this not handed to me at once?"

"Because I believe it is a forgery."

"Allow me, if you please, sir, to settle that point for myself."

Then hastily reading the note, he said, "Yes, my spirited lad, I have already heard of your brave and n.o.ble deeds, and of yours, too,"

turning to Julie. "I am extremely sorry that any officer of the militia force should so lack discrimination as to have acted towards you as Mr. Unworthy has done."

Then the sweet girl, with a bounding heart, told him that she had come to him for a force of twenty men; that if he gave these, she could take them in a line as the bird flies to the stronghold of the rebel chief.

"Your suggestion is good," Colonel Denison replied; "and I will give you thirty men. Browninge," he shouted, calling to a clerical looking officer who was standing among a group of brother officers, "get thirty men in the saddle at once, and follow these scouts."

Browninge saluted, and went speedily to make preparations.

"Will you not dismount and take refreshments," the Colonel asked in a kindly tone, advancing a step nearer the two boys.

Annette could not eat anything. She felt excited till the troop got in motion. But Julie would not mind if she ate something. She was hungry now because she had not taken much breakfast; and the sweet gourmand was soon at work upon the choicest food in the Colonel's larder.

"If my experience of character during the years that I have spent upon the bench be of any value," the Colonel remarked in a low tone to some of his officers, "I could give you some interesting information about that scout," looking towards Annette, "and this other one as well," meaning Julie. "These boys, trust my word, are no more Crees than I am. Note the fineness of their features, and the well-bred air and the grace of the one on horseback." The remarks of the Colonel were brought to an end by the appearance of Browninge, who saluted, and announced that he was ready to go.

Julie jumped up, like a kitten, from her feasting, vaulting into the saddle; and while her mouth was yet half full of meat, thanked the Colonel for his hospitality. Annette simply said;

"Colonel Denison, my words fail me now to thank you. But I wish you knew my heart." He simply waved his hand, and wished the party _bon voyage_. Then striking spurs into her horse, Annette led away across the level prairie towards the stronghold of the hateful Metis chief.

"I shall now give you my opinion, gentleman," Colonel Denison said, as the horses disappeared over a knoll; "these two lads were not what they seemed. They were girls."

"Impossible!"

"Well, we shall some day know. What is more, I am satisfied that the larger one has more than an ordinary interest in Stephens. She has twice already saved his life; and I should not be surprised if she were now to lay him once more under the obligation. Ha, truant," he said, turning to one of his staff who had come from a nigh tree-clump, where he had been writing, "you should have been here to see the beautiful Metis maiden. She was in disguise, but her beauty was not less divine than that of your own Iena. Fancy the feelings of Stephens, when his own fortunes are bright, to have that beautiful girl straying about this wilderness. I can imagine him asking, in that pa.s.sage which you gave me yesterday from your poem--

'My little flower amongst a weedy world, Where art thou now? In deepest forest shade?

Or onward where the Sumach stands arrayed In autumn splendour, its alluring form Fruited, yet odious with the hidden worm?

Or, farther, by some still sequestered lake, Loon-haunted, where the sinewy panthers slake Their noon-day thirst, and never voice is heard Joyous of singing waters, breeze or bird, Save their wild waitings.'"

[Footnote: This pa.s.sage is from the pages of the recently-published Canadian drama, "Tec.u.mseh."--E. C. ]

Further conference was cut short by the hasty approach of a coureur du bois. The colonel approached as the man dismounted.

"Captain Stephens has been tried by le chef's court martial, and is condemned to be shot. Le chef has only a few braves and bois-brules about him; and I could fetch you to the nest in an hour and a half by hard riding."

When the coureur learnt that the force had been dispatched he rode away again. And we shall likewise bid good-bye to the poet and the colonel, and join Browninge.

"Now, then, my good lad," the lieutenant said, "we have turned out a large force at your bidding to-day. Are you certain (_a_) that Captain Stephens is at Chapeau Rouge; (_b_), that Riel is there; (_c_), that there is such a stronghold at all?"

"Certainement, monsieur."

"It is well. Now, my men, keep in shelter of yonder bluff; for under cover of it only can we approach the den unperceived. We are now within three miles of the place." The men received the intelligence with enthusiasm, and put their horses at best speed.

When only fifteen minutes more remained to poor Stephens, the clergyman signed to the others to leave the room; and then, with his hands folded before him, asked the condemned man if he had any message to leave, or any peace to make with G.o.d.

No; he was not afraid to meet his G.o.d. He had wronged no man, and kept within the bounds of the laws set for his kind. But he had a message to leave--it was enclosed in a letter which he put into the hand of the minister.

"It is for Annette Marton. Oh, my G.o.d. We have been only two days betrothed. It is very hard to die."

"This doom was ordained for you, and you must try to meet it like a man."

"Oh, it is not death I fear. That is nothing. But, ah, to leave my love." After he had pa.s.sed his hands across his temples, as if to clear his understanding, he said, in a voice grown low and calm--

"There is also upon the table a note to my sister, Aster. That is all I have to say."

"Will you not pray with me awhile?"

"No; my heart is right; the rest matters not."

There was now a rude bustling at the door; the rusty key was plied, and with a harsh scream the bolt flew back. Then the evil-looking Luc entered, followed by three others, all of whom seemed partially intoxicated.

"Your hour has come, young man," Lestang said, in a brutal voice.

"Let us be jogging."