A suppressed squeal ran through girlish Kaskaskia.

"Now if we are going, we ought to go, or it will all be found out,"
observed Peggy with decision.

They had only to follow the nearest cross-street to reach the old Jesuit
College; but some were for making a long detour into the common fields
to avoid being seen, while others were for passing close by the bonfire
in a solid squad. Neither Peggy nor Angélique could reconcile these
factions, and Peggy finally crossed the fence and led the way in
silence. The majority hung back until they were almost belated. Then,
with a venturous rush, they scaled the fence and piled themselves upon
Dinah, who was quietly trying to deal out a handful of hempseed to every
passer; and some of them squalled in the fear of man at her uplifted
paw. Then, shying away from the light, they entered a street which was
like a canal of shadow. The houses bounding it were all dark, except the
steep roof slopes of the southern row, which seemed to palpitate in the
bonfire's flicker.

Finding themselves away from their families in this deserted lane, the
girls took to their heels, and left like sheep a perceptible little
cloud of dust smoking in the gloom behind them.

Beyond the last house and alongside the Okaw river stood the ruined
building with gaping entrances. The girls stumbled among irregular
hummocks which in earlier days had been garden beds and had supplied
vegetables to the brethren. The last commandant of Kaskaskia, who
occupied the Jesuits' house as a fortress, had complained to his
superiors of a leaky and broken roof. There was now no roof to complain
of, and the upper floors had given way in places, leaving the stone