who regarded them as a sort of moral barometer of the situation, and
sought to discern in their appearance the tenor of Montgomery's official
dispatches.

That morning, when Stuart went with his spy-glass to reconnoiter from
the tower of one of the block-houses, he noted, always keenly observant,
a trifle of confusion, as he entered, in the manner of the
sentinel,--the smart, fair-haired, freckled-faced young soldier whose
services were sometimes used as orderly, and whose name was Daniel Eske.
The boy immediately sought to appear unconcerned. The officer asked no
question. He raised the glass to his eye and in one moment discerned,
amongst the laurel jungles close to the river, an Indian, a young girl,
who suddenly lifted her arm and gracefully waved her hand toward the
bastion. Stuart lowered the glass and gravely looked a grim inquiry at
the young soldier.

Daniel Eske answered precipitately: "For God's sake, sir, don't let this
go against me. I'm not holding any communication with the enemy,--the
red devils. That baggage, sir, has been twice a-waving her hand to me
when I have been on guard here. I never took no notice, so help me
God,--Captain,--I--"

The distance being minimized by the lens, Stuart could discern all the
coquettish details of the apparition; the garb of white dressed doe
skin--a fabric as soft and flexible, the writers of that day tell us, as
"velvet cloth"--the fringed borders of which were hung with shells and
bits of tinkling metal; the hair, duly anointed, black and lustrous,
dressed high on the head and decorated with small wings of the red bird;
many strings of red beads dangled about the neck, and the moccasons were
those so highly valued by the Indians, painted an indelible red. With a
definite realization of the menace of treachery in her presence,
Stuart's face was stern indeed as he looked at her. All at once his
expression changed.

"Do as I bid you," he said to the sentry, suddenly remembering
"Wing-of-the-Flying-Whip-poor-will," and her talk of the handsome young
orderly with his gold hair and freckles, and his gossip touching the
Scotchman's beautiful French wife, whom she regarded merely as a
captive. "Wait till she waves again. But no,--she is going,--show
yourself at the window,--must risk a shot now and then."

The loop-hole here attained the size of a small window, being commanded
only by the river, which would expose any marksman to a direct return
fire.

"Now, she see