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, 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.