Maud alone followed the movements of the gentlemen with her eyes.  The peculiar construction of the Hut prevented external view from the south windows; but there was a loop in a small painting-room of the garret that was especially under her charge.  Thither, then, she flew, to ease her nearly bursting heart with tears, and to watch the retiring footsteps of Robert.  She saw him, accompanied by his father and the chaplain, stroll leisurely down the lawn, conversing and affecting an indifferent manner, with a wish to conceal his intent to depart.  The glass of the loop was open, to admit the air, and Maud strained her sense of hearing, in the desire to catch, if possible, another tone of his voice.  In this she was unsuccessful; though he stopped and gazed back at the Hut, as if to take a parting look.  Her father and Mr. Woods did not turn, and Maud thrust her hand through the opening and waved her handkerchief.  “He will think it Beulah or I,” she thought, “and it may prove a consolation to him to know how much we love him.”  The major saw the signal, and returned it.  His father unexpectedly turned, and caught a glimpse of the retiring hand, as it was disappearing within the loop.  “That is our precious Maud,” he said, without other thought than of her sisterly affection.  “It is her painting-room; Beulah’s is on the other side of the gateway; but the window does not seem to be open.”

The major started, kissed his hand fervently, five or six times, and then he walked on.  As if to change the conversation, he said hastily, and with a little want of connection with what had just passed—­

“Yes, sir, that gate, sure enough—­have it hung, at once, I do entreat of you.  I shall not be easy until I hear that both the gates are hung—­ that in the stockade, and that in the house, itself.”

“It was my intention to commence to-day,” returned the father, “but your departure has prevented it.  I will wait a day or two, to let your mother and sisters tranquillize their minds a little, before we besiege them with the noise and clamour of the workmen.”

“Better besiege them with that, my dear sir, than leave them exposed to an Indian, or even a rebel attack.”

The major then went on to give some of his more modern military notions, touching the art of defence.  As one of the old school, he believed his father a miracle of skill; but what young man, who had enjoyed the advantages of ten or fifteen years of the most recent training in any branch of knowledge, ever believed the educations of those who went before him beyond the attacks of criticism.  The captain listened patiently, and with an old man’s tolerance for inexperience, glad to have any diversion to unhappy thoughts.

All this time Maud watched their movements from the loop, with eyes streaming with tears.  She saw Robert pause, and look back, again and again; and, once more, she thrust out the handkerchief.  It was plain, however, he did not see it; for he turned and proceeded, without any answering signal.