I thought again of all who had gone forth that morning filled with hope and life.

I had, it is true, known none of them long, but there were many in that ill-fated company who had already grown dear to me, and one was among them who I now knew beyond all question was to remain in my heart forever.
I recalled the faces one by one, with some tender memory for each in turn.

I thought of the brave Captain Wells, with his swarthy face, and Indian training, who had proved himself so truly my friend for my father's sake; of Captain Heald, the typical bluff soldier of the border, ready to sacrifice everything to what he deemed his duty; of Lieutenant Helm, grave of face and calm of speech, always so thoughtful of his sweet girl bride; and of young Ronan, loyal of heart and impetuous of deed, whose frank manliness had so drawn me to him.

And now all these brave, true comrades were dead! Only five or six hours ago I had spoken with them, had ridden by their side; now they lay motionless yonder, stricken down by the basest treachery, their poor bodies hacked and mutilated almost beyond recognition.

I could scarcely realize the awful truth; it rested upon me like some horrible dream, from which I knew I must soon awaken.
But it was Mademoiselle,--Toinette, with the laughing eyes and roguish face, which yet could be so tender,--whose memory held me vibrating between constant dread and hope.