from the Oneida girl whose bridal dress you bought to give to me. Do you remember her? The maid called Drooping Wings?”

“Yes — but — I do not understand. To what end is all this? When and where is your knowledge of the Iroquois tongue likely to aid you?”

She gave me a curious, veiled look — then turned her face away.

“You do not dream of following our army, do you?” I demanded. “Not one woman would be permitted to go. It is utterly useless for you to expect it, folly to dream of such a thing� . You and Lana are to go to Easton as soon as the heavier artillery is sent down the river, which will be the day we start — Friday. This frontier gypsying is ended — all this coquetting with