“I desired my son, Joyce—­”

“Whom, your honour—?”

The general movement told the captain how completely his auditors were taken by surprise, at this unlooked-for announcement of the presence of the major at the Knoll.  It was too late to recall the words, however, and there was so little prospect of Robert’s escaping the penetration of Joel, the father saw no use in attempting further concealment.

“I say I desired my son, major Willoughby, who is the bearer of that flag,” the captain steadily resumed, “to raise his hat in a particular manner, if all seemed right; or to make a certain gesture with his left arm, did he see anything that required us to be more than usually on our guard.”

“And which notice has he given to the garrison, if it be your honour’s pleasure to let us know?”

“Neither.  I thought he manifested an intention to make the signal with the hat, when the chiefs first joined him; but he hesitated, and lowered his hand without doing as I had expected.  Then, again, just as he disappeared behind the rocks, the left arm was in motion, though not in a way to complete the signal.”

“Did he seem hurried, your honour, as if prevented from communicating by the enemy?”

“Not at all, Joyce.  Irresolution appeared to be at the bottom of it, so far as I could judge.”

“Pardon me, your honour; uncertainty would be a better word, as applied to so good a soldier.  Has major Willoughby quitted the king’s service, that he is among us, sir, just at his moment?”

“I will tell you his errand another time, serjeant.  At present, I can think only of the risk he runs.  These Indians are lawless wretches; one is never sure of then faith.”

“They are bad enough, sir; but no man can well be so bad as to disregard the rights of a flag,” answered the serjeant, in a grave and slightly important manner.  “Even the French, your honour, have always respected our flags.”

“That is true; and, yet, I wish we could overlook that position at the mill.  It’s a great advantage to them, Joyce, that they can place themselves behind such a cover, when they choose!”

The serjeant looked at the encampment a moment; then his eye followed the woods, and the mountain sides, that skirted the little plain, until his back was fairly turned upon the supposed enemy, and he faced the forest in the rear of the Hut.

“If it be agreeable to your honour, a detachment can be detailed to make a demonstration”—­Joyce did not exactly understand this word, but it sounded military—­“in the following manner:  I can lead out the party, by the rear of the house, using the brook as a covered-way.  Once in the woods, it will be easy enough to make a flank movement upon the enemy’s position; after which, the detachment can be guided by circumstances.”

This was very martial in sound, and the captain felt well assured that Joyce was the man to attempt carrying out his own plan; but he made no answer, sighing and shaking his head, as he walked away towards the house.  The chaplain followed, leaving the rest to observe the savages.