into the forest. He saw her not, but Hortense recognized that evil-eyed man and thought, "God's vengeance is falling on him with a heavy hand." On to Fort St. Mattheo pressed the fair Huguenot and her companion, muddy, wet, and hungry. "God grant I may be in time!" she prayed.

They had travelled all night, and her strength was nearly exhausted, when, at early dawn, before her blurred vision rose the ramparts of St. Mattheo, with the spire of the small chapel, reared on the blood-stained soil of her slaughtered countrymen. She was faint and dizzy, and so exhausted that she tottered as she walked, but with a superhuman effort she threw off her increasing weakness and cried:

"No, no! I must not faint now! I must not faint now!"

At the appointed hour De Gourges with his troops was at the place of rendezvous. Here he met Saturiova and his chiefs, who were very punctual. The place of rendezvous was on the banks of the River Somme, called by the savages "Suraba." When they had assembled, De Gourges said to the chiefs:

"I want to exact from you a solemn promise that, as you have led us into this quarrel, you will not desert us."

an

"My white brother need have no fears,' swered Saturiova. "I am here with my warriors, my friends are here with their warriors; we are all ready to go with the thunder-makers and exterminate the Spaniards."

"Are you willing to go where I shall direct and do what I shall command?" asked De Gourges. A grunt of assent was the response.

It being quite late, the army encamped, intending to begin the final march in the morning.

CHAPTER XVII.

RETRIBUTION.

SOON after dark a heavy rain set in and continued all night, accompanied by a high wind, thunder, and lightning. By morning the streams were swollen, the low lands inundated, and the expedition was in serious danger of an utter fail

ure.

De Gourges began to grow discouraged when it was reported that the road by which they were going to make the attack was impassable. Was there no other way by which the fort could be reached? Perhaps the Indians knew of some other route. De Bray found a young brave who agreed to guide them to the fort. All day and night the rain continued to fall, but by noon the next day it cleared a little. De Gourges drew his men up once more for the final march, and said:

"I want to remind every Frenchman that the hour to strike has come. Remember that for two years your slaughtered countrymen have slept unavenged in nameless graves. Let no man falter. Come on."

Led by the guide, the army began their march. Heavy armor was generally discarded at this day, being ineffective against bullets and interfering with celerity of movement, though helmet and breast-plate were still worn to protect the head and breast. Night came, and after a short halt to rest the march was continued. The sky was clear and the new moon, like a horn of silver, hung in the sky, while one by one the stars opened their bright little eyes to watch the silent army. During the remainder of the night only short halts were made, when the guide, momentarily at fault, sought a new course. All night he led them by a safe but roundabout route, and just before dawn of day announced that on crossing a stream before them they would be in full view of one of the forts. "Is the stream deep?" De Gourges asked. The Indian signified the depth by pointing to his breast.

"Then we will wade it."

De Gourges ordered his men to fasten their powder-flasks on their helmets and to carry their swords and guns in their hands. Day had already begun to dawn, and the shadows in the forest grew momentarily lighter, revealing the pale, stern faces of the soldiers and officers. The Indian guide first plunged into the stream, De Gourges following. Then the whole army entered the water, which, in

places, came quite up to their armpits. De Gourges, gaining the opposite bank, turned about and cautioned his men against making any noise.

All were safely over at last, and the soldiers were allowed to stand a few moments while the water ran from their soaked garments. From this point De Gourges determined to reconnoitre the fort in person, and, with D'Estampes, De Bray, and Saturiova, he set out through the brushwood and tall grass. They moved with the utmost caution, and shortly after sunrise were rewarded by gaining a point from whence they had a view of the doomed fort. De Gourges was a little startled by seeing the people inside the fort in motion as if excited over something, and feared that John Gyrot had eluded his Indian pursuers, reached the fort, and spread the alarm.

It afterward appeared that the cause of the commotion was the rumor that two Indians had at dawn reached St. Mattheo with an order for the release of a prisoner. This caused the people to gather in groups and discuss who the prisoner could be. A great many of the men were also busy repairing a fountain. De Gourges waited until the flurry seemed to partially subside, and went back to his men. The Indians had kept their secret well, and John Gyrot, though not captured, had not been permitted to reach any of the Spanish settle