"Swift moccasins for little feet as swift against the day that
the long trail is safe. Then, in the Vale Yndaia, little Lois, seek
her who bore you, saved you, lost you, but who love you always.
"Pray every day for him who died in the Regiment de la
Reine.
"Pray too for her who waits for you, in far Yndaia."
"What a strange message!" I exclaimed.
"I must heed it," she said under her breath. "The trail is open,
and my hour is come."
"But, Lois, that trail means death!"
"Your army makes it safe at last. And now the time is come when
I must follow it."
"Is that why you have followed us?"
"Yes, that is why. Until that night in the storm at
Poundridge-town I had never learned where the Vale Yndaia lay.
Month after month I haunted camps, asking for information
concerning Yndaia a
