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"I mean nothing of the kind," was the reply, "but I
recommend you to lose no time in dressing and turning
out. The men are already on parade, and if Captain Headley,
finding that you are absent, tends over here to inquire
the cause, I would not give much for your future chances
of swallowing whisky-punch within the walls of Chicago."

"Eh? what! what!" spluttered the surgeon, as he jumped
up, drew on his boots, dipped his face in a basin of
water, and hastily completed his toilet. In less than
five minutes he was on parade.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Elmsley, after giving this warning,
had passed again through the mess-room, and knocked at
Ronayne's door. But there was no answer.

"Hilloa, Ronayne," he called loudly, as he turned the
handle of the latch, "are YOU in bed too?"

But no Ronayne was there. He looked at the bed--like the
doctor's, it had been laid upon, but no one had been
within the clothes.

What was the meaning of this? After a few moments of
delay, he flew back to Von Vottenberg's room, but the
latter was already gone. Retracing his steps, he met
Ronayne's servant entering at the mess-room door.

"Where is your master?" he inquired. "How is it that he
is not in his room--has not been in bed?"

"Not been in bed?" repeated the lad, with surprise. "Why,
sir, he told me last night that he was very drowsy and
should lie late; and, that he mightn't be disturbed, he
desired me to sleep in one of the block-houses. I was
only to wake him in time for guard-mounting, and as it
wants but ten minutes to that, I am just come to call him."

"Clean out the mess-room directly--open the windows, and
pat every thing in order," said the lieutenant, fearing
that Captain Headley might, on hearing of the absence of
the young officer, pay his quarters a visit in search of
some clue to the cause. "I see it all," he mused, as he
moved across the parade-ground. "He would not, generous
fellow, get me into a scrape, by making me privy to his
design, and to avoid the difficulty of the gate, has got
over the pickets somewhere--yet, if so, he must have had
a rope, and assistance of some kind, for he never could
have crossed them without. Yet, where can he be gone,
and what could he have expected to result from his mad
scheme? Had he waited until now, he would have known by
the arrival of the fishing-party with their sad charge,
how utterly useless was all this risk."

"Well, Mr. Elmsley," said the captain, who now appeared
at the front of his own door, fully dressed for parade,
and preparing to issue forth in all the stateliness of
command.

"The parade is formed, sir," remarked the lieutenant,
confusedly, "but I cannot find the officer of the guard."

"Sir!" exclaimed Captain Headley.

"I cannot find Mr. Ronayne, sir--I have myself been over
to his quarters, and looked into his bed-room, but it is
clear that he has not been in bed all night."

"What is the meaning of all this? Send Doctor Von Vottenberg
here immediately."

And lucky was it for that gentleman that the officer who
now desired his attendance on the commandant had roused
him from that Lethean slumber in which he had been, only
a few minutes before, so luxuriously indulging.

"Doctor Von Vottenberg," commenced the captain, as soon
as that official made his appearance before him; "you
are quartered with Mr. Ronayne. Have you seen any thing
of him last night or this morning--no evasion, nay,"
seeing that the doctor's brow began to be overclouded,
"I mean no attempt to shield the young man by a suppression
of the truth."

"I certainly saw him last night, Captain Headley, but
not at a very late hour. We took a glass or two of punch,
and smoked a couple of pipes together, but we both went
to bed early, and for my part, I know that I slept so
soundly as to have heard nothing--seen nothing, until I
got up this morning."

The doctor spoke truly as to the time of their retirement
to rest, for the ensign had left him early in the night,
while he had found his way to his own bed, early in the
morning.

"The boat is nearing the landing-place, sir," reported
the sergeant of the guard, who now came up, and more
immediately addressed Lieutenant Elmsley.

This information, for the moment, banished the subject
under discussion. "Let the men pile their arms," ordered
Captain Headley; "and when this is done, Mr. Elmsley,
follow me to the landing-place."

In a few minutes both officers were there. The boat was
within fifty yards, when the subaltern joined his captain;
and the oarsmen, evidently desirous of doing their best
in the presence of the commanding officer, were polling
silently and with a vigor that soon brought it to its
accustomed berth.

"What body is that, Corporal Nixon?" inquired the latter,
"and how is it that you are only here this morning?"

"Sir," answered the corporal, removing one of his hands
from the steer-oar, and respectfully touching his cap,
"it's poor Le Noir, the Frenchman, killed by the Injins
yesterday, and as for our absence, it couldn't be helped,
sir; but it's a long report I have to make, and perhaps,
captain, you would like to hear it more at leisure than
I can tell it here."

By this time the men had landed from the boat, leaving
the Canadian to be disposed of afterwards as the commanding
officer might direct. The quick eye of the latter
immediately detected the slight limping of Green, whose
wound had become stiff from neglect, cold, and the cramped
position in which he had been sitting in the boat.

"What is the matter with this man?" he inquired of the
corporal. "What makes him walk so stiffly?"

"Nothing much the matter, captain," was the indifferent
reply. "It's only a ball he got in his leg in the scrimmage
last night."

"Ha! the first gun-shot wound that has come under my
treatment during the three long years I have been stationed
here. Quick, my fine fellow, take yourself to the hospital,
and tell the orderly to prepare my instruments for
probing."

"Scrimmage last night; what do you mean, Corporal
Nixon--whom had you the scrimmage with?"

These remarks fell at the same moment from the lips of
the commander and those of the surgeon, the latter rubbing
his hands with delightful anticipation of the treat in
store for him.

"With the Indians, captain," replied Nixon; "the Indians
that attacked Mr. Heywood's farm."

"Captain Headley," interrupted the lieutenant, with
unusual deference of manner, for he was anxious that no
further reference should be made to the subject in presence
of the invalids and women, who, attracted by the news of
the arrival of the boat, had gathered around, partly from
curiosity, partly for the purpose of getting their expected
supply of fish, "do you not think it better to examine
Corporal Nixon first, and then the others in turn?"

"Very true, Mr. Elmsley, I will examine them separately
in the orderly-room to see how far their statements
agree; yet one question you can answer here, corporal.
You say that it is the body of Le Noir, killed by the
Indians. Where is Mr. Heywood, then?"

The generous Elmsley felt faint, absolutely sick at heart
on hearing this question; the very object be had in view
in proposing this private examination was thereby threatened
with discomfiture.

"Mr. Heywood has been carried off by the Indians," calmly
replied the corporal, yet perceptibly paling as he spoke.

"Indeed! this is unfortunate. Let the men go to their
barracks, and there remain until I send for them," ordered
the commandant. "You, corporal, will come to me at the
orderly-room, in half an hour from this. That will be
sufficient time for you to clean yourself, and take your
breakfast. None of your party, I presume, have had their
breakfast yet?"

"No, your honor," answered Green, who seemed to fancy
that his wound gave him the privilege of a little license
in the presence of his chief, "not unless an old turkey,
the grandfather of fifty broods, and as tough as shoe-
leather, can be called a breakfast."

Captain Headley looked at the speaker sternly, but took
no other notice of what he, evidently, deemed a very
great liberty, than to demand how he presumed to disobey
the order of the surgeon. Then desiring him to proceed
forthwith to the hospital and have his leg dressed, he
himself withdrew after postponing the parade to one
o'clock.

"And are you sure, Nixon, that Mr. Heywood has been
carried off by the Indians," asked Lieutenant Elmsley,
the revulsion of whose feelings on hearing the corporal's
answer to the question put by Captain Headley had been
in striking contrast with what he had experienced only
a moment before; "are you quite sure of this?"

The interrogatory was put, immediately after the commanding
officer had retired, doubtingly, in a low tone, and apart
from the rest of the men.

"I saw them carry him off myself, sir," again deliberately
said the corporal. "The whole of the party saw it too."

"Enough, enough," pursued the lieutenant, in a friendly
tone. "I believe you, Nixon. But another question. Were
you joined last night by any one of the regiment? recollect
yourself."

The corporal declaring that nothing in the shape of an
American uniform had come under his notice, since he
departed from the Fort the preceding evening, the officer
next turned his attention to the boat.

"What are you fumbling about there, Collins?" he asked,
rather sharply--"Why do you not go and join your mess?"
This was said as the rest of the party were now in the
act of moving off with their muskets and fishing apparatus.

"Poor fellow!" interposed the corporal, "he is not himself
to-day; but I am sure, Mr. Elmsley, you will not be hard
upon him, when I tell you that, but for him, there wouldn't
be a man of us here of the whole party."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the lieutenant, not a little surprised
at the information; "but we shall hear all about that
presently; yet what is he fidgetting about at the bottom
of the bow of the boat?"

"There's another body there, sir, besides Le Noir's. It's
that of the poor boy at Heywood's--an Indian scalped him
and left him for dead. Collins, who put a bullet into
the same fellow, not an hour afterwards, found the boy
by accident, while retreating from the place where we
had the first scrimmage with the red devils. He was still
breathing, and he took every pains to recover him, but
the cold night air was too much for him, and he died in
the poor fellow's arms."

"Well, this is a strange night's adventure, or rather
series of adventures," remarked the lieutenant half aside
to himself. "Then, I suppose," he resumed, more immediately
addressing the corporal, "he has brought the body of the
boy to have him interred with Le Noir?"

"Just so, sir, for he mourns him as if he had been his
own child," answered Nixon, as the officer departed--
"here, Loup Garou, Loup Garou," and he whistled to the
dog. "Come along, old fellow, and get some breakfast."

But Loup Garou would not stir at the call of his new
master. Sorrow was the only feast in which he seemed
inclined to indulge, and he continued to crouch near the
body of the Canadian as impassible and motionless as if
he was no longer of earth himself.

"Come along, Collins," gently urged the Virginian,
approaching the boat, where the former was still feeling
the bosom of the dead boy in the vain hope of finding
that life was not yet extinct. "It's no use thinking
about it; you have done your duty as a soldier, and as
a good man, but you see he is gone, and there is no help
for it. By and by, we will bury them both together; but
come along now. The dog will let nobody near them."

"Dash me, corporal, if I ever felt so queer in my life!"
answered Collins, in a melancholy tone, strongly in
contrast with his habitual brusque gaiety; "but, as you
say, it's no use. The poor lad is dead enough at last,
and my only comfort now is to bury him, and sometimes
look at his grave."

The half-hour given by Captain Headley to the men to
clean themselves and eat their breakfasts, afforded his
subaltern ample time to take his own, which had all this
time been waiting. When he readied his rooms he found
that he had another ordeal to go through. Mrs. Elmsley
was already at the bead of the table, and pouring out
the coffee, with Miss Heywood seated on her left--the
latter very pale, and having evidently passed a sleepless
night. As the officer entered the room, a slight flush
overspread her features, for she looked as if she expected
him to be accompanied by another, but when he hastily
unbuckled his sword, and placed it, with his cap, on a
side-table, desiring his wife to lose no time in pouring
out the coffee, as he must be off again immediately, she
felt, she knew not wherefore, very sick at heart, and
became even paler than before. Nor was she at all re-assured
by the tone of commiseration in which, after drawing a
chair to her side, and affectionately pressing her hand,
he inquired after her own and her mother's health.

"Why, George," said Mrs. Elmsley, who remarked this change
in her friend, and in some degree divined the cause,
"where are Mr. Ronayne and the doctor? You told me last
night they were to breakfast here--and see, one, two,
three, four, five cups (pointing at each with her finger),
I have prepared accordingly. Indeed, I scarcely think
this young lady would have made her appearance at the
breakfast-table, had she not expected to meet--who was
it, my dear? and she turned an arch look upon her friend
--"ah! I know now--Von Vottenberg."

"Nay, I have no more need of disguise from your husband
than from yourself, Margaret," replied Miss Heywood, her
coloring cheek in a measure contradicting her words--"it
was Harry Ronayne I expected; but," she added, with a
faint smile, "do not imagine I am quite so romantic as
not to be able to take my breakfast, because he is not
present to share it; therefore if you please, I also will
trouble you for a cup of coffee."

"All in good time," remarked Mrs. Elmsley. "I dare say,
Ronayne is engaged in some duty which has prevented him
from keeping his engagement as punctually as he could
have desired. We shall certainly see him before the
breakfast things are removed."

"It seems to me," said her husband, who was taking his
meal with the appetite of any other than a hungry man,
and even with a shade of vexation on his features, "that
you all appear to be very much in the dark here. Why,
Margaret, have you not heard what has occurred during
the night, as well as this morning?"

"How should I have heard any thing, George?" replied Mrs.
Elmsley. "I have seen no one since you went out this
morning--who could have communicated news from without?
Surely you ought to know that. Will you have more coffee?"

"No, thank you--I have no appetite for coffee or for any
thing else. I almost wish I had not come. Dear Maria,"
he added, impetuously, taking Miss Heywood's hand in his
own; "I know you have a noble--a courageous heart, and
can bear philosophically what I have to tell you."

"I can bear much," was the reply, accompanied by a forced
smile, that was contradicted by the quivering of the
compressed lip; "and if I could not, I find I must begin
to learn. Yet what can you have to tell me, my dear Mr.
Elmsley, more than I already divine--my poor father--"
and the tears started from her eyes.

"Ha! there at least, I have comfort for you--although
there has been sad work at the farm--the fishing-party
have come in with the bodies of poor Le Noir and the boy
Wilton, but they all say that Mr. Heywood was carried
off a prisoner by the Indians."

"Carried off a prisoner," repeated Miss Heywood, a sudden
glow animating her pale features--"oh! Elmsley, thank you
for that. There is still a hope then?"

"There is indeed a hope; but, dearest Miss Heywood, why
must I heal with one hand and wound with the other. If
I give comparative good news of your father, there is
another who ought to be here, and whose absence at this
moment is to me at once a pain and a mystery."

"You mean Harry Ronayne?" she said, hesitatingly, but
without manifesting surprise.

"Where the foolish fellow has gone," he continued, "I do
not know, but he has disappeared from the Fort, nor has
he left the slightest clue by which he may be traced."

"Does Captain Headley know this?" she inquired,
recollecting, that part of the conversation that had
passed between them the preceding day, in reference to
the succor that might have been afforded at the farm.

"He does. I made the report of Ronayne's absence to him
personally, and the doctor was summoned to state if he
had seen any thing of him. He, however, was as ignorant
as a man, who had been drunk during the night, and was
not yet quite sober in the morning, could well be. The
captain was as much surprised as displeased, but further
inquiry was delayed on the sergeant of the guard coming
up and announcing the near approach of the boat containing
the fishing-party."

"Tell me, dear Mr. Elmsley," said Miss Heywood, after a
few moments of seeming reflection; "what is your own
opinion of the matter? How do you account--or have you
at all endeavored to account for Ronayne's absence?"

"I can easily understand the cause," he replied, "but
confound me if I can attempt to divine the means he took
to accomplish his object."

He then proceeded to relate the circumstances of his
proposal to Captain Headley--the abrupt refusal he had
met with--his subsequent application to himself to pass
him out of the gate, and the final abandonment of his
request when he found that his acquiescence would seriously
compromise him, as officer of the guard.

"Noble Harry!" thought Miss Heywood--"your confusion,
your vexation of yesterday, arose from not being able to
follow your own generous impulses: but now I fully
understand the resolve you secretly made--and all for my
sake. Do not think me very romantic," she said aloud to
Mr. Elmsley, "but really, Margaret, I cannot despair
that all will yet, and speedily, be well. The only fear
I entertain is that the strict Captain Headley may rebuke
him in terms that will call up all the fire of his nature,
and induce a retort that may prove a source of serious
misunderstanding--unless, indeed, the greatness of the
service rendered, plead his justification."

"Now that we are on the subject, dear Miss Heywood,"
remarked Elmsley, "let me once for all disabuse you of
an impression which I fear you entertain--or is it so?
Do you think that Ronayne has had an opportunity of
joining the party at the farm?"

"Certainly, I do," she answered, gravely, "or why should
he have gone forth? Pray do not rob me of what little
comfort, in expectation, I have left."

"That he went forth madly and single-handed for the
purpose, I can believe--nay, I am sure of it; but I grieve
to add that he has not been seen there."

"This, indeed, is strange," she returned in faltering
tones, and with ill-disguised emotion, for, hitherto she
had been sustained by the belief that he was merely
lingering behind the party, in order to satisfy himself
of facts, the detail of which could not fail to be
satisfactory to her ear. "How know you this?"

"I questioned Corporal Nixon, who commanded the party,
and who apprised me of Mr. Heywood's having been carried
off by the Indians, for I was deeply anxious, as you may
presume, to know what had become of my friend--and this
far less even for my own sake than for yours."

"And his answer was?" and there was deep melancholy in
the question.

"That no American uniform had come under his notice during
his absence from the Fort, save those of the party he
commanded. These, as far as I can recollect, were his
precise words."

"Mr. Elmsley," said a sentry, who now appeared at the
door of the breakfast-parlor, "Captain Headley waits for
you in the orderly room."

"Is Corporal Nixon there?" asked the lieutenant.

"He is, sir."

"Good, Dixon, I shall be there immediately."

"God bless you," he continued, to Miss Heywood, when the
man had departed. "We shall, perhaps, elicit from him,
something that will throw light upon the obscure part of
this matter. Margaret, do not leave the dear girl alone,
but cheer up her spirits, and make her hope for the best."

So saying, he shook her hand affectionately, pushed back
his chair from the table, and resuming his cap and sword,
left the friends together, promising to return as soon
as the examination of the man should be concluded.

CHAPTER IX.

Mr. Heywood's history may be told in a few words. He was
the son of an officer who had served in one of the American
partizan corps, during the Revolution, and had been killed
at the attack made by General Green upon the stronghold
of Ninety-Six, in the South. At that time he was a mere
youth, and found himself a few years after, and at the
age of eighteen, without fortune, and wholly dependent
upon his own resources. The war being soon ended, his
naturally enterprising disposition, added to great
physical strength, induced him to unite himself with one
of the many bands of adventurers that poured into the
then, wilds of Kentucky, where, within five years, and
by dint of mere exertion and industry, he amassed money
enough to enable him to repair to Charleston, in South
Carolina, and espouse a lady of considerable landed
property, with whom he had formed a partial engagement,
prior to his entering on that adventurous life. The only
fruit of this union was a daughter, and here, as far as
fortune was concerned, they might have enjoyed every
comfort in life, for Mrs. Heywood's property was
principally situated in the neighborhood, but her husband
was of too restless a nature to content himself with a
sedentary life. He had at the outset embarked in commerce
--the experience of a few years, however, convincing him
that he was quite unsuited to such pursuits, he had the
good sense to abandon them before his affairs could be
involved. He next attempted the cultivation of the estate,
but this failing to afford him the excitement he craved,
he suddenly took leave of his family, and placing every
thing under the control of a manager, once more obeyed
the strong impulse, which urged him again to Kentucky.
Here, following as a passion the occupation of his earlier
years, he passed several seasons, scarcely communicating
during that period, with his amiable and gentle wife,
for whom, however, as well as for his daughter--now
fifteen years of age, and growing rapidly into womanhood
--he was by no means wanting in affection. Nor was his
return home THEN purely a matter of choice. Although
neither quarrelsome nor dissipated in his habits, he had
had the misfortune to kill, in a duel, a young lawyer of
good family who had accompanied him to Kentucky, and had
consequently fled. Great exertions were made by the
relatives of the deceased to have him arrested on the
plea that the duel, the result of a tavern dispute, had
been unfair on the part of the survivor. As there was
some slight ground for this charge, the fact of Mr.
Heywood's flight afforded increased presumption of his
guilt, and such was the publicity given to the matter by
his enemies, that the rumor soon reached Charleston, and
finally, the ears of his family.

Revealing, in this extremity, his true position to his
wife, Mr. Heywood declared it to be his intention either
to cross the sea, or to bury himself forever in the
remotest civilized portion of their own continent, leaving
her however, to the undisturbed possession of the property
she had brought him, which would of course descend to
their child.

But Mrs. Heywood would not listen to the proposal. Although
she had much to complain of, and to pain her, all
recollection of the past faded from her memory, when she
beheld her husband in a position of danger, and even in
some degree of humiliation, for she was not ignorant that
even in the eyes of people not over scrupulous, ineffaceable
infamy attaches to the man, who, in a duel, aims with
unfair deliberation at the life of his opponent; and
anxious to satisfy herself that such a stain rested not
on the father of her child, she conjured him to tell her
if such really was the case. He solemnly denied the fact,
although he admitted there were certain appearances
against him, which, slight as they were, his enemies had
sought to deepen into proofs--and in the difficulty of
disproving these lay his chief embarrassment.

The tone--the manner--the whole demeanor of Mr. Heywood
carried conviction with his denial, and his wife at once
expressed her determination to renounce for his sake,
all those local ties and associations by which she had
been surrounded from childhood, and follow his fortunes,
whithersoever they might lead. This, she persisted, she
was the more ready and willing to do, because her daughter's
education having been some months completed, under the
best masters, there was now no anxiety on her account,
other than what might arise from her own sense of the
contemplated change.

Maria Heywood was accordingly summoned to the consultation
--made acquainted with her father's position, and the
necessity for his instant departure from that section of
the country--and finally told that with her it rested to
decide, not only whether he should go alone, but if they
accompanied him, whether it should be to Europe, or to
the Far West.

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