“The top av the mornin’ t’ye,” it said, “an’ shure an’ I thought I’d be here as soon as you.”

It was Rory, who, after many adventures in dodging about the village, and seeing Jacques and the two women servants safely past the lax cordon of rebels, without taking advantage of the situation to take refuge in the Fort himself, had come back to his beloved dogs with a presentiment that something had gone wrong with the others, and that his services might be required.  He was singularly right.

Bastien nearly jumped out of his blanket suit with terror when he heard this strange voice.  He had seized poor Dorothy with reckless temerity on the previous night when he was surrounded by his own people, but now that he had to deal with a white man he was not quite so brave.  But Douglas speedily reassured him, and he busied himself in hitching up a team.

The rancher and Rory speedily compared notes.

“It will be light in another hour,” said Douglas, not a little impatiently, “and I can’t make out why Pasmore doesn’t come on, unless he’s got into trouble.  As you tell me, and as he would know himself, it would be useless trying to get to the Fort.  I don’t like the idea of going on ahead, as he told me to be sure and do, while he may be in need of help.”

“It’s mortal queer,” observed Rory, “that he didn’t come on wid you.”  He turned and addressed Bastien, who, having hitched up two teams, seemed in a great hurry to be off.  “Eh, mister, an’ what may you be sayin’ to it?”

“I tink eet ees time to be what you call depart,” was the reply.  “Eet ees mooch dead ze metis will shoot us if zey come now.”

He glanced apprehensively around.

“It’s the other man who came with Katie to the place where they had me prisoner, and who remained behind,” explained Douglas.  “He told me he’d come on.”

The half-breed looked surprisedly and incredulously at the rancher.  Dorothy had now joined the group, and was listening to what was being said.

“Mon Dieu!” exclaimed Bastien, “but ees eet possible that you not know!  Katie she haf told all to me.  Ze man you declare of he will no more come back.  Ze man who made of you a preesonar, have to show one on ze morrow, but eet matter not vich, and dey arrange to show ze ozer man! He take your place; he mooch good fellow, and zey shoot him mooch dead to-morrow!”

And all at once the truth—­the self-sacrifice that Pasmore had so quietly carried out—­flashed upon them.  It was a revelation.

Douglas understood now why it was the sergeant had told him to hurry on, and not wait.

CHAPTER XI

THE RETREAT

There was a dead silence for about thirty seconds after the half-breed had revealed the truth regarding Pasmore’s non-appearance.  Douglas wondered why he had not suspected the real state of affairs before.  Of course, Pasmore knew that his guards had only consented to the exchange on condition that he was handed over to the bloodthirsty crew on the morrow!