Part 82 (1/2)

We seated ourselves. If the Little Maid of Askalege, whirling in her dance, perceived us through her veil of living phosph.o.r.escence, she made no sign.

And it was a long time before she stood still, swayed outward, reeled across the gra.s.s, and fell face down among the ferns.

As I sprang to my feet Tahioni caught my arm.

”Remain very silent and still, my elder brother,” he said gravely.

For a full hour, I think, the girl lay motionless among the ferns. The cloud of fire-flies had vanished. Rarely one sparkled distantly now, far away in the glade.

The delay, in the darkness, seemed interminable before the girl stirred, raised her head, slowly sat upright.

Then she lifted one slim arm and called softly to me:

”Nai, my Captain!”

”Nai, Thiohero!” I answered.

She came creeping through the herbage and gathered herself cross-legged beside me. I took her hands warmly, and released them; and she caressed my arms and face with velvet touch.

”It is happiness to see you, my Captain,” she said softly.

”Nai! Was I not right when I foretold your hurt at the fight near the Drowned Lands?”

”Truly,” said I, ”you are a sorceress; and I am deeply grateful to you for your care of me when I lay wounded by Howell's house.”

”I hear you. I listen attentively. I am glad,” she said. ”And I continue to listen for your voice, my Captain.”

”Then--have you talked secretly with the fire-flies?” I asked gravely.

”I have talked with them.”

”And have they told you anything, little sister?”

”The fire-flies say that many green-coats and Maquas have gone to Stanwix,” she replied seriously, ”and that other green-coats,--who now wear _red_ coats,--are following from Oswego.”

I nodded: ”Sir John's Yorkers,” I said to Tahioni.

”Also,” she said, ”there are with them men in _strange uniforms_, which are not American, not British.”

”What!” I exclaimed, startled in spite of myself.

”Strange men in strange dress,” she murmured, ”who speak neither English nor French nor Iroquois nor Algonquin.”

Then, all in an instant, it came to me what she meant--what Penelope had meant.

”You mean the Cha.s.seurs from Buck Island,” said I, ”the Hessians!”