It will be twilight ere you
get out of these woods--
_Sol_. I beg your pardon, Sir; but here is that young Indian guide of
mine, after all, above there, beckoning me.
_Off_. Stay--you will come back to the camp ere midnight?
_Sol_. Unless some of these quick-eyed rebels see through my disguise.
_Off_. Do not forget the lodge as you return. A little hut of logs just
in the edge of the woods, but Siganaw knows it well.
[_Exit the Soldier_.
(_The call in the thicket above is repeated, and another
young officer enters the glen_.)
_2nd Off_. Hillo, Maitland! These woods yield fairies,--come this way.
_1st Off_. For God's sake, Andre! (_motioning silence_.) Are you mad?
_Andre_. Well, who are they?
_Mait_. _Who_? Have you forgotten that we are on the enemy's ground?
Soldiers from the fort, no doubt. They have crossed that opening twice
since we stood here.
_Andre_. Well, let them cross twice more. I would run the risk of a
year's captivity, at least, for one such glimpse. Nay, come, she will be
gone.
_Mait_. Stay,--not yet.
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