Mrs. Macgregor and the half-breed woman were sent away round by the right flank under the charge of Jacques, who was to go ahead and try to pilot them into the Fort in safety.  The Police were to move round on the left flank.

As for Douglas and his daughter, they were to go down separately to the foot of the ridge, walk leisurely through the scattered houses, evading as much as possible the straggling groups of rebels, and make towards a certain point where a series of old buffalo-wallows would to a great extent prevent their being seen.  He warned Douglas against keeping too near his daughter.  He, being so well-known, would be easily recognised, and their being close together might lead to the capture of both.

Douglas at first demurred, but presently saw the force of this advice.  It was a hard thing to be separated from Dorothy, but he realised that otherwise he might only compromise her safety, so he kissed her and went in the direction the sergeant pointed out.  Pasmore and his charge were now left quite alone.  There was a dead silence for some moments.

“I think we’d better go,” he said, at length.  “Now, do you feel as if you could keep your nerve?  So much depends on that.”

“I’m going to rise to the occasion,” she answered smilingly, and with a look of determination on her face.  “Let us start.”

“One moment—­you mustn’t show quite so much of your face—­it isn’t exactly an everyday one.  Let me fix you up a little bit first.”

She looked at him laughingly as he pressed her beaver-cap well down over her smooth white forehead until it hid her dark, arched eyebrows.  He turned up her deep fur collar, and buttoned it in front until only her pretty hazel eyes and straight white nose were to be seen.  Then he regarded her with critical gravity.

“I wish I could hide those eyes of yours,” he said, with whimsical seriousness.  “You mustn’t let any young Johnny Crapaud or Indian see them any more than you can help.”

They descended the bluff and walked silently together for some little distance through the thicket of birch and saskatoon bushes.  They were now close to the garden of the first straggling house, and they could see dark figures moving about everywhere.  He pointed out to her the way she would have to take.

“Now, au revoir,” he said, “and good luck to you.”

They shook hands, and she wished him an equal luck.  “You have been very good to us,” she added, “and I hope you will believe that we are grateful.”

He took off his cap to her, and they went on their separate ways.

Now that the girl had gone so far that there was no turning back, she rose to the occasion as she said she would.  She faced the ghastly sights with much of her father’s old spirit.

She put her hands in her large side pockets and lounged leisurely past the gable end of a house.  A half-breed woman, carrying a large armful of loot, met her on the side-walk.  In the moonlight the girl caught the glint of the bold, black, almond-shaped eyes and the flushed face.  The woman was breathing hard, and her two arms encircled the great bundle.  She shot a quick glance at Dorothy.  She was more Indian than white.