But high water at Tioga ford, a mile or two above, soon checked them, and there they remained that night.  As I was again on duty with Hanierri and the Dominie, I saw not Lois that day.

Friday was fair and sunny, and the ground dried out.  And all the morning I was with Dominie Kirkland and Hanierri, translating, transcribing, and writing out the various speeches and addresses left for me by General Sullivan.

Runners came in toward noon with news that our main forces had encamped at the pass before Chemung, and were there awaiting us.

Murphy, the rifleman, came saying that our detail was packing up at the fort, that Major Parr had sent word for Lieutenant Boyd to strike tents and pull foot, and that the boats were now making ready to drop down the river with the non-combatants.

My pack, and those of my Indians, had been prepared for days, and there was little for me to do to make ready.  Some batt-men carried my military chest to the fort, where it was bestowed with the officers’ baggage until we returned.

Then I hastened away to the fort and discovered our twenty riflemen paraded there, and Boyd inspecting them and their packs.  His face seemed very haggard under its dark coat of sunburn, but he returned my salute with a smile, and presently came over to where I stood, saying coolly enough: 

“I have made my adieux to the ladies.  They are at the landing place expecting you.  Best not linger.  We should reach Chemung by dusk.”

“My Indians are ready,” said I.

“Very well,” he said absently, and returned to his men, continuing his careful inspection.

As I passed the log bridge, I saw Dolly Glenn standing there with a frightened look on her face, but she paid no heed to me, and I went on still haunted by the girl’s expression.

A throng of people—­ civilians and soldiers—­ were at the landing.  The redoubtable Mrs. Sabin was bustling about a batteau, terrorizing its crew and bullying the servants, who were stowing away her property.  Looking about me, I finally discovered Lois and Lana standing on the shore a little way down stream, and hastened to them.

Lana was as white as a ghost, but to my surprise Lois seemed cheerful and in gayest spirits, and laughed when I saluted her hand.  And it relieved me greatly to find her so animated and full of confidence that all would be well with us, and the parting but a brief one.

“I know in my heart it will be brief,” she said smilingly, and permitting both her hands to remain in mine.  “Soon, very soon, we shall be again together, Euan, and this interrupted fairy tale, so prettily begun by you and me, shall be once more resumed.”

“To no fairy finish,” I said, “but in sober reality.”

She looked at Lana, laughing: 

“What a lad is this, dear!  How can a fairy tale be ever real?  Yet, he is a magician like Okwencha, this tall young Ensign of mine, and I make no doubt that his wizardry can change fancy to fact in the twinkling of an eye.  Indeed, I think I, too, am something of a witch.  Shall I make magic for you, Euan?  What most of anything on earth would you care to see tonight?”