Instantly the venturer was
up and. at the flap, peering outside. A figure loomed against the
stars, paced slowly by with an audible step, passed and turned and
passed again.
It was Marc Dupre, an eagle feather, snatched from the quivering form
of the guard lying in the darkness by the wall of the lodge, slanting
from his head against the heavens.
A little way beyond at the ashes of a fire a warrior stirred, lifted a
head, and peered toward the tepee of captives; then, satisfied that all
was well, lay down again to slumber. Back and forth, back and forth
paced the solitary watcher. De Courtenay within was quivering from head
to foot with the knowledge that something was happening. As he stood so
the pacing figure halted a moment before the opening.
"S-s-t!" it whispered; "warn Ma'amselle!" then walked away.
Swift on the words another figure crept noiselessly to the lodge door.
"M'sieu," said Edmonton Ridgar, beneath his breath, "give me the
factor's shoulders. Do you take his feet and follow,--softly, for your
life. Bring the maid."
De Courtenay stepped back, groped for Maren, took her head in his
hands, and brought her ear up to his lips.
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