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"There is ample room for two, and 't is no use to tire yourself needlessly." I accepted gratefully, though somewhat astonished at his courtesy, and in a moment was on the seat beside him. He fell silent for a time, nor was I in any mood for talk, for Spiltdorph's fate and young Harry Marsh's sudden end weighed upon me heavily.
At five-thirteenths of a mile a day, we shall arrive there nicely in in let me see." "In three hundred and ninety days!" cried Spiltdorph. "Thank you, lieutenant," and Peyronie bowed toward Spiltdorph's nimbus. "I was never good at figures. In three hundred and ninety days, then. You see, we shall get to Fort Duquesne very comfortably by the middle of July of next year.
"Well," said Peyronie deliberately, "if it were left to me, the first thing I should do would be to cut down Spiltdorph's supply of tobacco and take away from him that great porcelain pipe, which must weigh two or three pounds." "I should like to see you do it," grunted Spiltdorph, and he took his pipe from his lips to look at it lovingly.
Waggoner looked at him with a grim smile, and there was a gleam in Spiltdorph's eyes, though he tried to conceal himself behind a cloud of smoke. Peyronie's good humor was infectious. "Let me see," continued the Frenchman, "when was it the first detachment left the fort?" "The twenty-ninth of May," answered Waggoner shortly. "And what day is this?" "The eleventh of June."
Let us thank God that they suffered no worse." The man breathed a long sigh and his strength seemed to go suddenly from him, for he dropped his rifle and fell upon his knees. "This was my wife," he whispered. "This was my sister. These were my children. What is there left on earth for me?" I no longer sought to control the working of my face, and the tears were streaming down Spiltdorph's cheeks.
"Good-night," I said, and in a few moments his deep breathing told me he was again in the land of dreams. It was long before my own eyes closed, and my dreams were not of battle, but of a bench upon the river's bank, and a figure all in white sitting there beside me. "Wake up, man, wake up!" cried a voice in my ear, and I opened my eyes to see Spiltdorph's kindly face bending over me.
"Pick your man;" but before I could reply he had jerked his musket to his shoulder with a cry of rage and fired. An Indian had picked up one of the children, which must have been only wounded, since it was crying lustily, and was just about to pitch it on the fire, when Spiltdorph's bullet caught him full in the breast. He threw up his hands and fell like a log, the child under him.
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