"This is the spot," whispered De Artigny, "and no alarm yet. How far to the rocks?"

"De Tonty figured the distance at forty feet below the stockade; we have fifty feet of rope here. The rock shelf is narrow, and the great risk will be not to step off in the darkness. There should be an iron ring here somewhere--ay, here it is; help me draw the knot taut, Rene."

"Do we--do we go down here, Monsieur?" I questioned, my voice faltering.

"Here, or not at all; there are guards posted yonder every two yards.

This is our only chance to escape unseen." Boisrondet tested the rope, letting it slip slowly through his hands down into the darkness below, until it hung at full length. "It does not touch," he said, "yet it cannot lack more than a foot or two. Faith! We must take the risk. I go first Rene--hush! 'tis best so--the lady would prefer that you remain, while I test the passage. The devil himself may be waiting there." He gazed down, balancing himself on the edge, the cord gripped in his hands.

"Now mind my word; once on the rock below I will signal with three jerks on the cord. Haul up then slowly, so as to make no noise; make a noose for the lady's foot, and lower her with care. You have the strength?"

"Ay, for twice her weight."

"Good; there will be naught to fear, Madame, for I will be below to aid your footing. When I give the signal again Rene will descend and join us."

"The rope is to be left dangling?"

"Only until I return. Once I leave you safe beyond the Iroquois, 'tis my part to climb this rope again. Some task that," cheerfully, "yet De Tonty deems it best that no evidence connect us with this escape. What make you the hour?"

"Between one and two."

"Which will give me time before daydawn; so here, I chance it."

He swung himself over the edge, and slipped silently down into the black mystery. We leaned over to watch, but could see nothing, our only evidence of his progress, the jerking of the cord. De Artigny's hand closed on mine.

"Dear," he whispered tenderly, "we are alone now--you are sorry?"

"I am happier than I have ever been in my life," I answered honestly.

"I have done what I believe to be right, and trust God. All I care to know now is that you love me."

"With every throb of my heart," he said solemnly. "It is my love which makes me dread lest you regret."

"That will never be, Monsieur; I am of the frontier, and do not fear the woods. Ah! he has reached the rock safely--'tis the signal."

De Artigny drew up the cord, testing it to make sure the strands held firm, and made careful noose, into which he slipped my foot.

"Now, Adele, you are ready?"

"Yes, sweetheart; kiss me first."

"You have no fear?"

"Not with your strong hands to support, but do not keep me waiting long below."

Ay, but I was frightened as I swung off into the black void, clinging desperately to that slight rope, steadily sinking downward. My body rubbed against the rough logs, and then against rock. Once a jagged edge wounded me, yet I dare not release my grip, or utter a sound. I sank down, down, the strain ever greater on my nerves. I retained no knowledge of distance, but grew apprehensive of what awaited me below.

Would the rope reach to the rock? Would I swing clear? Even as these thoughts began to horrify, I felt a hand grip me, and Boisrondet's whisper gave cheerful greeting.

"It is all right, Madame; release your foot, and trust me. Good, now do not venture to move, until Rene joins us. Faith, he wastes little time; he is coming now."

I could see nothing, not even the outlines of my companion, who stood holding the cord taut. I could feel the jagged face of the rock, against which I stood, and ventured, by reaching out with one foot, to explore my immediate surroundings. The groping toe touched the edge of the narrow shelf, and I drew back startled at thought of another sheer drop into the black depths. My heart was still pounding when De Artigny found foothold beside me. As he swung free from the cord, his fingers touched my dress.

"A fine test of courage that, Adele," he whispered, "but with Francois here below there was small peril. Now what next?"

"A ticklish passage for a few yards. Stand close until I get by; now cling to the wall, and follow me. Once off this shelf we can plan our journey. Madame, take hold of my jacket. Rene, you have walked this path before."

"Ay, years since, but I recall its peril."

We crept forward, so cautiously it seemed we scarcely moved, the rock shelf we traversed so narrow in places that I could scarce find space in which to plant my feet firmly. Boisrondet whispered words of guidance back to me, and I could feel De Artigny touch my skirt as he followed, ready to grip me if I fell. Yet then I experienced no fear, no shrinking, my every thought centered on the task. Nor was the way long. Suddenly we clambered onto a flat rock, crossed it, and came to the edge of a wood, with a murmur of water not far away. Here Boisrondet paused, and we came close about him. There seemed to be more light here, although the tree shadows were grim, and the night rested about us in impressive silence.

"Here is where the river trail comes down," and Boisrondet made motion to the left. "You should remember that well, Rene."

"I was first to pass over it; it leads to the water edge."

"Yes; not so easily followed in the night, yet you are woodsman enough to make it. So far as we know from above the Iroquois have not discovered there is a passage here. Listen, Rene; I leave you now, for those were De Tonty's orders. He said that from now on you would be safe alone. Of course he knew nothing of Madame's purpose."

"Monsieur shall not find me a burden," I interrupted.

"I am sure of that," he said gallantly, "and so think it best to return while the night conceals my movements. There will be hot words when M. Cassion discovers your escape, and my chief may need my sword beside him, if it comes to blows. Is my decision to return right, Rene?"

"Ay, right; would that I might be with you. But what plan did M. de Tonty outline for me to follow?"

"'Twas what I started to tell. At the edge of the water, but concealed from the river by rocks, is a small hut where we keep hidden a canoe ready fitted for any secret service. 'Twas Sieur de la Salle's thought that it might prove of great use in time of siege. No doubt it is there now just as we left it, undiscovered of the Iroquois. This will bear you down the river until daylight, when you can hide along shore."

"There is a rifle?"

"Two of them, with powder and ball." He laid his hand on the other's shoulder. "There is nothing more to say, and time is of value.

Farewell, my friend."

"Farewell," their fingers clasped. "There will be other days, Francois; my gratitude to M. de Tonty." Boisrondet stepped back, and, hat in hand, bowed to me.

"Adieu, Madame; a pleasant journey."

"A moment, Monsieur," I said, a falter in my voice. "You are M. de Artigny's friend, an officer of France, and a Catholic."

"Yes, Madame."

"And you think that I am right in my choice? that I am doing naught unworthy of my womanhood?"

Even in the darkness I saw him make the symbol of the cross, before he bent forward and kissed my hand.

"Madame," he said gravely, "I am but a plain soldier, with all my service on the frontier. I leave to the priests the discussion of doctrines, and to God my punishment and reward. I can only answer you as De Artigny's friend, and an officer of France. I give you honor, and respect, and deem your love and trust far more holy than your marriage. My faith, and my sword are yours, Madame."

I felt his lips upon my hand, yet knew not he had gone. I stood there, my eyes blinded with tears at his gallant words, only becoming conscious of his disappearance, when De Artigny drew me to him, his cheek pressed against my hair.

"He has gone! we are alone!"

"Yes, dear one; but I thank God for those last words. They have given me courage, and faith. So my old comrades believe us right the criticism of others does not move me. You love me, Adele? you do not regret?"

My arms found way about his neck; my lips uplifted to his.