In the first place, the darkness had deepened to that extent, within the last few hours, that he believed he could move about without being suspected: he was confident indeed that he could stay out as long as he chose and return in safety.
He still felt chagrined over the audacity of the Wyandots, which came so near success, and longed to turn the tables upon them.
But Jo Stinger had too much sense to leave the garrison and run into great peril without the prospect of accomplishing some good thereby. He knew the Wyandots were completing preparations to burn the block-house. He believed it would be attempted before morning, and, if not detected by him, would succeed. He had strong hope that, by venturing outside, he could learn the nature of the plan against which it would therefore be possible to make some preparation.
Colonel Preston was not without misgiving when he drew the ponderous bolts, but he gave no expression to his thoughts. All was blank darkness, but, when the door was drawn inward, he felt several cold specks on his hand, from which he knew it was snowing.
The flakes were very fine and few, but they were likely to increase before morning, by which time the ground might be covered.
"When shall I look for your return?" asked the Colonel, but, to his surprise, there was no answer. Jo had moved away, and was gone without exchanging another word with the commandant.
The latter refastened the door at once. He could not but regard the action of the most valuable man of his garrison as without excuse: at the same time he reflected that his own title could not have been more empty, for no one of the three men accepted his orders when they conflicted with his personal views.
In the meantime Jo Stinger, finding himself on the outside of the block-house, was in a situation where every sense needed to be on the alert, and none knew it better than he.
The door which Colonel Preston opened was the front one, being that which the scout passed through the previous night, and which opened on the clearing along the river. He was afraid that, if he emerged from the other entrance, he would step among the Wyandots and be recognized before he could take his bearings.
But Jo felt that he had entered on an enterprise in which the chances were against success, and in which he could accomplish nothing except by the greatest risk to himself. The listening Colonel fancied he heard the sound of his stealthy footstep, as the hunter moved from the door of the block-house. He listened a few minutes longer, but all was still except the soft sifting of the snow against the door, like the finest particles of sand and dust filtering through the tree-tops.