aud? are you shut out by this sudden inroad?"
demanded the major, with concern and surprise.

"So it would seem. I can see no other--though I did think Michael might
be somewhere near me, in the woods, here; I at first mistook your
footsteps for his."

"That is a mistake"--returned Willoughby, levelling a small pocket spy-
glass at the Hut--"Mike is tugging at that gate, upholding a part of
it, like a corner-stone. I see most of the faces I know there, and my
dear father is as active, and yet as cool, as if at the head of a
regiment."

"Then I am alone--it is perhaps better that as many as possible should
be in the house to defend it."

"Not alone, my sweet Maud, so long as I am with you. Do you still think
my visit so ill-timed?"

"Perhaps not, after all. Heaven knows what I should have done, by
myself, when it became dark!"

"But are we safe on this seat?--May we not be seen by the Indians,
since we so plainly see them?"

"I think not. I have often remarked that when Evert and Beulah have
been here, their figures could not be perceived from the lawn; owing, I
fancy, to the dark back-ground of rock. My dress is not light, and you
are in green; which is the colour of the leaves, and not easily to be
distinguished. No other spot gives so good a view of what takes place
in the valley. We must risk a little exposure, or act in the dark."

"You are a soldier's daughter, Maud"--This was as true of major
Meredith as of captain Willoughby, and might therefore be freely said
by even Bob--"You are a soldier's daughter, and nature has clearly
intended you to be a soldier's wife. This is a _coup-d'-oeil_ not
to be despised."

"I shall never be a wife at all"--murmured Maud, scarce knowing what
she said; "I may not live to be a soldier's daughter, even, much
longer. But, why are _you_ here?--surely, surely _you_ can
have no connection with those savages!--I have heard of such horrors;
but _you_ would not accompany _them_, even though it were to
_protect_ the Hut."

"I'll not answer for that, Maud. One would do a great deal to preserve
his paternal dwelling from pillage, and his father's grey hairs from
violence. But I came alone; that party and its objects being utterly
strangers to me."

"And _why_ do you come at all, Bob?" inquired the anxious girl,
looking up into his face with open affection--"The situation of the
country is now such, as to make your visits very hazardous."

"Who could know the regular major in