While he was speaking, I kept my eye on the slow batteau which led.  Three boatmen poled it; Lois and Lana sat in the middle; behind them crouched two riflemen, long weapons ready, the ringed coon-tail floating in the breeze.

Neither of the ladies had yet recognized me; Lana leaned lightly against Lois, her cheek resting on her companion’s shoulder.

A black rage against Boyd rose suddenly in my breast; and so savage and abrupt was the emotion that I could scarce stifle and subdue it.

“It is wrong for them to come,” I said with an effort to speak calmly, “——­ utterly and wickedly wrong.  Our block-forts are not finished.  And when they are they will be more or less vulnerable.  I can not understand why you did not make every effort to prevent their coming here.”

“I made every proper effort,” he said carelessly.  “What man is vain enough to believe he can influence a determined woman?”

I did not like what he said, and so made him no answer.

“Is your camp still asleep?” he asked, yawning.

“Yes.  The morning gun is usually fired at six.”

“Can you lodge us and bait us until I make my report?”

“I can lodge the ladies and give breakfast to you all.  How near is our main army?”

“Between twenty and thirty miles above—­ one can scarce tell the way this accursed river winds about.  Our men are exhausted.  They’ll not arrive tonight.  General Poor’s men from this camp met us last night.  Clinton desired me to take a few riflemen and push forward; and the ladies—­ except the fat one—­ begged so prettily to go with us that he consented.  So we took two empty batteaux and a canoe and came on in advance, with no effort whatever.”

“That was a rash business!” I said, controlling my anger.  “The river woods along the Ouleout swarm with Seneca scouts.  Didn’t you understand that?”

“So I told ’em,” he said, laughing, “but do you know, Loskiel, between you and me I believe that your pretty inamorata really loves the thrill of danger.  And I know damned well that Lana Helmer loves it.  For when we came through without so much as sighting a muskrat, ‘What!’ says she, ’Not a savage to be seen and not a shot fired!  Lord,’ says she, ’I had as lief take the air on Bowling Green—­ there being some real peril of beaux and macaronis!’”

Everything this man said now conspired to enrage me; and it was a struggle for me to restrain the bitter affront ever twitching at my lips for utterance.  Perhaps I might not have restrained it any longer had I not seen Lois lean suddenly forward in her seat, shade her eyes with her hands, then stand up beside one of the boatmen.  And I knew she recognized me.

Instantly within me all anger, rancour, and even dread melted in the warmer and more generous emotion which nigh overwhelmed me, so that for an instant I could scarce see her for the glimmering of my eyes.

But that passed; I went down to the shore and stood there while the clumsy boat swung inshore, the misty waves slapping at the bow and side.  The landing planks lay on the gravel.  Boyd and I laid them.  Lana, wrapped in her camblet, crossed them first, giving me her hand with a pale smile.  I laid my lips to it; she passed, Boyd moving forward beside her.