sleepily where he was, and then remembered.
His room was at the western end of the house, which faced the south, and from his window he could see the Fort and the Agency on the other side of the river. A savoury suggestion of frying bacon, penetrating the rough log partition, impelled him to dress hurriedly. As he broke the ice in his water pitcher, he wondered whether the Ensign had taken his regular plunge, and shivered at the thought.
When he reached the large room which served as kitchen, dining-room, and parlour, he found the family already assembled. Chandonnais was just leaving the table, and Mrs. Mackenzie sat at the head, pouring coffee from a quaint and battered silver pot which had been her grandmother's.
"Good-morning," she said cheerily, "I thought most likely you were beat out from travelling, and I told John to let you sleep."
She was a large, fair woman, matronly in every line, and her face was delicately pink. Her abundant hair was ashen blonde, escaping in little curls at her temples, and at the second glance one saw that it was rapidly turning grey. She had a wholesome air of cleanliness, and her blue eyes mirrored the kindness in the depths of her motherly heart.
Her brood was gathered around her, and every face had been scrubbed until it shone. The baby sat at her right and pounded the table madly with his pewter spoon, to the evident delight of his father. Maria Indiana was sipping warm milk daintily, like the four-year-old lady that she was, and Ellen and Johnny conducted themselves with more dignity than is common to people of seven and nine.
Forsyth had made friends with the children the evening before, and, of his own accord, had extended the schooling to all but the baby.
"It's going to be a sight of comfort to me," said Mrs. Mackenzie, "to have the young ones out from under foot half the time. The baby don't bother much. I tie him in his chair, give him something to play with, and he's all right."
"Where am I to teach, Aunt Eleanor?"
"In the next room, I guess. There's a fireplace in there, and you can have it all to yourselves. Just wait till the breakfast things are out of the way and I'll see to it."
At this juncture the Ensign appeared, smiling and debonair. "Morning! Am I too late for coffee?"
"You've had some already this morning, haven't you?" asked Mackenzie.
"Well, now, that depends on what coffee really is. Of course they called it that, but it isn't to be mentioned in the same breath with Mrs. Mackenzie's." Robert noted that there was an extra cup on the table, and surmised that the delicate hint was not infrequent.
"Thank you," continued the visitor in a grateful tone; "you've saved my life."
"I wish I had a dollar for every time I've saved your life," laughed Mrs. Mackenzie.
"So do I, for you are a good and beautiful woman, and you deserve a fortune, if anybody ever did."
"Go away, you flatterer. You remind me of a big, motherless chicken."
"Gaunt and chicken-like I may be, but never motherless while you live. A little bread and butter, please, to go with the coffee."
"Wouldn't you like some bacon?" asked Mackenzie, hospitably.
"Well, perhaps – a little. Mrs. Mackenzie cooks it beautifully."
"Ellen," said her mother, "get another plate."
"You're so good to me," murmured the Ensign, drawing his chair closer to his hostess. "Are those doughnuts?"
"They are."
"I remember once, when you gave me a doughnut, just after drill. I can taste it yet."
"Is that so? I'd forgotten it."
"Now that I think of it, you didn't, but you said you would, some time."
She laughed and pushed the plate toward him.
"Ye gods!" he exclaimed, sinking his white teeth into a doughnut, "what cooking! What a woman!"
"I think I'll ask to be excused," said Mackenzie, rising and pushing back his chair.
"Certainly," responded the soldier, with a gesture of elaborate unconcern. "Don't stay on my account, I beg of you. Think of real cream in your coffee!" he sighed, scraping the pitcher with a spoon. "I could drink cream."
"You're not going to," put in Mrs. Mackenzie, pointedly.
"I know it," he answered sadly; "I only wish I were."
When the last scrap of food had disappeared from the table, he stopped eating, but not before.
"That makes a man feel better," he announced, "especially a suffering and dying invalid like me. Come on, Forsyth, I'm going to take you over to the Fort for a bit."
It did not occur to Robert to question the mandates of this lordly being. "All right, wait till I get my coat and hat. I'll be back in a few minutes, Aunt Eleanor, to open school."
"The devil you will," observed Ronald, as they left the house. "What a liar you are!"
The path which led to the gate was well trodden, early morning though it was. "Indian tracks," said the Ensign, pointing to a narrow line on the snow; "you can always tell 'em. They keep their feet in single file – no company front about their walking."
An unpainted fence surrounded the Mackenzie premises, and at the right and left of the gate were four tall Lombardy poplars, two on each side. Brown sparrows chattered and fought in the bare branches, scorning to fly away at their approach. The house had been built on a point of land which projected into the river and turned it sharply from its course. Between the patches of snow the ice glittered in the sun.
"Salubrious spot," commented George, as they struck the frozen surface of the stream. "Don't get too near that hole. It's my bath-tub and it's weak around the edges."
Near the middle of the river was a large, jagged space in the ice and on the snow around it were finger-marks and footprints.
"Rather looked for you out this morning," Ronald continued. "Was disappointed."
Robert shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply.
"That happy architectural combination which we now approach," his guide went on, professionally, "is Fort Dearborn. Intoxicated party drew the plans and other intoxicated parties followed 'em. I could improve it in several places, but I'm obliged to make the best of it. The flag-pole, in the middle of the parade-ground, is seventy-five feet high, though you wouldn't suspect it, on account of the heroic proportions of the other buildings, and it interferes most beautifully with everything.
"Regular fort, though. Officers' quarters, barracks, offices, guard-house, magazine, and other modern inventions. Commanding officer has a palatial residence to himself. The Lieutenant is supposed to live in half of it, but he doesn't. Those warts at the south-east and north-west corners are block-houses, made after a Chinese diagram. The upper story overhangs to give a down range for musketry and keep the enemy from setting fire to the Fort. The double stockade is where the genius comes in, however. See how it slants and balances to corners. Makes the thing look like a quilt pattern. Would wear on the mind of a sensitive person.
"Hello, Charley! Here's where we get in. You see there's a sunken road to the river and there's a subterranean passage also, with a well in it, which insures the water-supply in case of
