“Father!”

“O!  I know it is not very serious still, even Beulah tells me you once called him a Major of Foot.”

“Did I?” said Maud, trembling in her whole frame lest her secret had been prematurely betrayed by the very attempt to conceal it.  “My tongue is not always my heart.”

“I know it, darling, unless where I am concerned.  Treat the son as you will, Maud, I am certain that you will always love the father.”  A pressure to the heart, and kisses on the forehead, eyes, and cheeks followed.  “You have all your own papers, Maud, and can easily understand your own affairs.  When examined into, it will be seen that every shilling of your fortune has gone to increase it; and, little hussy, you are now become something like a great heiress.”

“What does this mean, dearest, dearest father?  Your words frighten me!”

“They should not, love.  Danger is never increased by being prepared to meet it.  I have been a steward, and wish it to be known that the duty has not been unfaithfully discharged.  That is all.  A hundred-fold am I repaid by possessing so dutiful and sweet a child.”

Maud fell on her father’s bosom and sobbed.  Never before had he made so plain allusions to the true relations which existed between them; the papers she possessed having spoken for themselves, and having been given in silence.  Nevertheless, as he appeared disposed to proceed no further, at present, the poor girl struggled to command herself, succeeded in part, rose, received her father’s benediction, most solemnly and tenderly delivered, and saw him depart, with an air of calmness that subsequently astonished even herself.

We must now quit the interesting group that was left behind in the Hut, and accompany the adventurers in their march.

Captain Willoughby was obliged to imitate his men, in the mode of quitting the palisades.  He had dressed himself in the American hunting-shirt and trowsers for the occasion, and, this being an attire he now rarely used, it greatly diminished the chances of his being recognised, if seen.  Joyce was in a similar garb, though neither Jamie nor Mike could ever be persuaded to assume a style that both insisted so much resembled that of the Indians.  As for Blodget, he was in the usual dress of a labourer.

As soon as he had reached the bottom of the cliff, the captain let the fact be known to Old Pliny, by using his voice with caution, though sufficiently loud to be heard on the staging of the roof, directly above his head.  The black had been instructed to watch Joel and his companions, in order to ascertain if they betrayed, in their movements, any consciousness of what was in progress at the Hut.  The report was favourable, Pliny assuring his master that “all ’e men work, sir, just as afore.  Joel hammer away at plough-handle, tinkerin’ just like heself.  Not an eye turn dis away, massa.”