“And our debt to you is still growing,” said Henry.  “As for myself, I think the attack will come to-night, when they deem us disorganized and beaten down by the storm.”

“And so do I,” said Adam Colfax.  “We have no time to waste.”

“May God preserve you,” said the priest.  “I have no desire to witness scenes of slaughter but I trust, for the sake of yourselves, for the sake of Bernardo Galvez, the good Governor General of Louisiana, and for the welfare of this region, that you may beat them off.  But the contest will be fierce and bloody.”

A young man, at the order of Adam Colfax, sounded a trumpet, a low thrilling call that aroused the men from their brief sleep, and the word was quickly passed that they were blockaded in the bayou, and that the hordes were advancing to a new attack.  They grumbled less now than at the storm.  Here was a danger that they knew how to meet.  Battle had been a part of all their lives, and they did not fear it.

The moonlight increased, the forest was dripping, but there was a noise now of bullet clinking against bullet, of the ramrod sent home in the rifle barrel, and of men talking low.

Adam Colfax called a conference in his boat.  His best lieutenants and the five were present.  Should they await the attack or advance to meet it?  In any event, the fleet must escape from the bayou, and the nearer they were to the river when the battle occurred the better it would be for them.

“Ef we know thar’s a danger,” said Tom Ross, “the best thing fur us to do is to go to it, an’ lay hold uv it.”

The vote on Tom’s suggestion was unanimous in its favor, and the fleet once more began to move.  A small force of riflemen marched on either bank in order to uncover possible skirmishers.

The advance was very slow and in silence save for the dip of the oars and the paddles.  The moonlight grew stronger and stronger, and they could now see a good distance on the deep, still bayou.

The five had remained in the leading boats and they watched closely for sight or sound of the hostile force, but as yet eye and ear told nothing.  The trees now grew close to the water’s edge and, looped heavily with trailing vines, they presented a black wall on either side.  But they had no fear of shots from such a source, as they knew that the trusty riflemen going in advance would clear out any skirmishers who might have hidden themselves there.

Paul was beside Henry.  Near him was Long Jim and in the boat next to them was Shif’less Sol and Tom Ross.  At this moment, which they felt to be heavy with import, it was good to be together.  Paul in particular, Paul, the impressionable and imaginative, looked around at the familiar figures in the clearing moonlight, and drew strength and comfort from their near presence.

The dark fleet moved slowly on, cutting the deep still waters of the bayou with almost noiseless keel.  The men had ceased whispering.  Now and then an oar splashed or the water gave back the echo of a paddle’s dip, but little else was heard.  All looked straight ahead.