"My name," replied Ouenwa. "They are my enemies."
"Ah, and so it is our privilege to fight this gentleman's battles for him," remarked D'Antons, with an exaggerated bow to the lad. "Perhaps this is the explanation of the attack."
"I think not," answered Kingswell, crisply. "They are surprised at discovering him here. Also they are surprised and displeased at seeing me again. They have smelled our powder before, as you have heard, I think."
"Yes, I have heard the heroic tale, monsieur," replied the captain, smiling his thin, one-sided, Continental smile.
The blood mounted in Kingswell's cheek. He turned on his heel without any further words. Ouenwa followed him to the Trigget cabin, whence he was bound for something to eat.
Panounia and his braves retreated across the frozen river, and did not show themselves again that day. In the fort every musket was loaded, the improvised gun-shields were repaired and strengthened, and the guns were again got ready for action. In place of round shot, William Trigget charged them with scrap-iron and slugs of lead.
"When ye has a lot o' mowin' to do in a short time, cut a wide swath," he remarked to Tom Bent.
"Ay, sir," replied Kingswell's boatswain, turning a hawk-like eye on the dark edges of the forest. "Ay, sir, cut a wide swath, an' let the devil make the hay. It be mun's own crop."
At the time of the hunters' return, Mistress Beatrix was looking from the doorway of her father's cabin. Now she knelt in her own chamber, sobbing quietly, with her face buried in her hands. All the bitterness and insecurity of her position had come to her with overmastering force. The sight of Captain d'Antons' thin face and uncovered, bedraggled hair, as he leaned on his musket and talked with her father and the young Englishman, had melted the courage in her heart. She prayed confusedly, half her thoughts with the petitions which she made to her God, and half with the desperate state of her affairs and the features and attitude of the buccaneer.