woods with a party of soldiers to search for Hortense De Barre, whom he determined should not escape him. His request was granted; but his search was futile, as we shall see.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE FRIENDLY CHIEF.

FRANCISCO ESTEVAN shuddered as he pressed the senseless, dripping girl to his breast. Their flight had been through a field of death, and perhaps some flying missile had pierced her body.

"O God! is she dead? is she dead?" groaned Francisco. It was too dark for him to see, and he thought the water dripping from her wet garments might be red with blood.

"Hortense! Hortense!" he groaned, "speak just one word to tell me you forgive me for being a Spaniard!"

The inanimate mass in his arms seemed to move. He uttered a low cry of joy, and again breathed her name in accents of love. Once more she evinced unmistakable signs of life. He sat down under a great oak, whose wide-spreading branches partially protected them from the dripping rain, and, holding her close to his heart to instil warmth in her cold form, he whispered:

"Hortense, speak!"

A slight shudder, and then a faint whisper from those lips which he could not see.

"Hortense! Hortense!"

"It is dark-so dark," she gasped. "I am cold and damp."

"Have no fear, Hortense, I will take care of you. Do you know where we are?"

"Monsieur Estevan," she murmured.

"Don't you remember?"

"Yes, yes the fort—the wild night-the masHow did I escape?"

sacre.

"I brought you away."

"And where are we now?"

"In the forest; I am taking you to a place of safety."

"Was it Melendez?"

"Yes."

"How many escaped ?"

"I know of none save yourself. Can you forgive such devil's work?"

"As I hope to be forgiven, I forgive."

"Your religion is better than mine."

After a feeble effort, she rose to her feet. "Are you strong enough to stand?" he asked. "I believe so, though I am still weak. Tell

me, monsieur, where are we going?"

"To a place I have provided for you in the home of an Indian chief."

"Is it far?"

"We may reach his village to-morrow. If you are not strong enough to walk, I will carry you."

"My strength is returning and in a moment I will be able to walk."

The wind sighed through the wet branches and swept the rainy sky. All the terrible sounds of a stormy night in a tropical forest fell on the ear of the startled girl, and she instinctively clung to her protector. Travel through the swamps and forests of Florida was at that day attended with no little danger, even in daylight; but on such a night as this, when every bayou and swamp contained a thousand lurking foes, where the wild beast, driven from his lair by the rising water, sought a victim on which to vent his rage, when the earth beneath, the heavens above, and the forest about them seemed charged with deadly fury, it was enough to intimidate the stoutest heart.

"You must be as brave as you were on the night you rescued me from the wreck," whispered Estevan.

"I will depend on you," she answered.

"God give me strength to protect you. Are you strong enough to go on?"

"I am.

How far are we from the fort?"

"Not far. I have no idea of the distance I

struggled with you, but it could not have been more than three-fourths of a mile."

"Is it over there?"

"It is," he answered sadly. "All is still there

now."

She shuddered and said she would try to walk. Supporting her with his arm, they went slowly through the dripping wood, Estevan feeling his way with the naked sword he had brought from the fort. They had not gone more than a mile, when he suddenly came to a halt and whispered:

"I hear voices."

She asked in what direction.

"On our left, between us and the fort." "Perhaps friends are coming.'

"No, señorita, it cannot be," he answered. "They were all slain; but have no fear; I will protect you as long as I live."

"Could they find us in the darkness?" she asked.

"The Spaniards sometimes hunt fugitives with blood-hounds; but, even if Melendez has brought dogs with him, the rain, which is so discomforting to us, will prove a blessing in obliterating the trail by which the ferocious beasts would have followed

They stood very still behind some trees, while the voices drew nearer. It was too dark to see;