“Only one, broken beyond repair.”
“Then, as I read the story, the tribe fled down the stream, either to join the others on the Illinois, or the whites at the fort. They were evidently not attacked, but had news of the coming of the Iroquois, and escaped without waiting to give battle. ’Tis not likely the wolves will overlook this village long. Are we ready to go forward?”
“Ay, the venture must be made, and it is dark enough now.”
De Artigny’s hand pressed my shoulder.
“I would that I could remain with you, Madame,” he said quietly, “but as I know the way my place is in advance. Barbeau must be your protector.”
“Nor could I ask for a braver. Do not permit any thought of me to make you less vigilant, Monsieur. You expect to gain the fort unseen?”
“’Tis merely a chance we take––the only one,” he explained briefly. “I cannot even be certain the fort is in state of siege, yet, without doubt those warriors who went down the river would be in position to prevent our approaching the rock by canoe. There is a secret path here, known only to La Salle’s officers, which, however, should give us entrance, unless some wandering Iroquois has discovered it by accident. We must approach with the utmost caution, yet I do not anticipate great peril. Barbeau, do not become separated from Madame, but let me precede you by a hundred paces––you will have no trouble following the trail.”
He disappeared in the darkness, vanishing silently, and we stood motionless waiting our turn to advance. Neither spoke, Barbeau leaning forward, his gun extended, alert and ready. The intense darkness, the quiet night, the mystery lurking amid those shadows beyond, all combined to arouse within me a sense of danger. I could feel the swift pounding of my heart, and I clasped the sleeve of the soldier’s jacket merely 280 to assure myself of his actual presence. The pressure of my fingers caused him to glance about.
“Do not be frightened, Madame,” he whispered encouragingly. “There would be firing yonder if the Iroquois blocked our path.”