Again he broke down. Ross felt the hot tears upon his own cheeks. Presently the father regained control of his emotions, and, rising, said calmly:
“You spoke of interceding in my behalf. To whom will you go?”
“To General Harrison.”
“Don’t go. It will avail nothing.”
“I’ll make the trial,” was the decided reply. “This evening I’ll see you again. Keep in good heart until I return. Good-by—father.”
Silently they shook hands and parted.
CHAPTER XX.
The rain still fell; the wind still blew in fitful gusts. The canvas walls of the officers’ tents swelled in and out, and cracked and popped boisterously. In the shelter of the traverses, soldiers huddled together and smoked in silence. The parade ground was deserted; and the sodden and trampled earth, the dripping flags clinging closely to their staffs, and the cloaked figures of the sentries stubbornly pacing their beats, gave to the interior of the American fortification a gloomy and depressing aspect.