Right and left I glanced as we rode up the hilly street; and suddenly saw Lois!  And so craned my head and twisted my neck and fidgeted that the General, who was sometimes humorous, and who was perfectly acquainted with my history, said to me that I had his permission to ride standing on my head if I liked, but for the sake of military decency he preferred that I dismount at once and make my manners otherwise to my affianced wife.

Which I lost no time in doing, not noticing that my Indians were following me, and drew bridle at the side-path and dismounted.

But where, in the purple evening light, Lois had been standing on her stoop, now there was nobody, though the front door was open wide.  So I ran across the street between the passing ranks of Gansevoort’s infantry, sprang up the steps, and entered the dusky house.  Through the twilight of the polished hallway she came forward, caught me around the neck with a low cry, clung to me closer as I kissed her, holding to me in silence.

Outside, the racketting drums of a passing regiment filled the house with crashing echoes.  When the noise had died away again, and the drums of the next regiment were still distant, she loosened her arms, whispering my name, and framing my face with her slim hands.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of three tall and shadowy figures hovering in the doorway.  Lois saw them, too, and stretched out one hand.  One after another my three Indians came to her, bent their stately crests in silence, took her small hand, and laid it on their hearts.

“Shall I bid them to dine with us tomorrow?” she whispered.

“Bid them.”

So she asked them a trifle shyly, and they thanked her gravely, turned one by one to take a silent leave of me, then went noiselessly out into the early dusk.

“Euan, my dear mother is awaiting you in our best room.”

“I will instantly pay my duties and——­”

“Lana is there also.”

“Does she know?”

“Yes.  God help her and the young thing she has taken to her heart.  The news came by courier a week ago.”

“How he died?  Does she know?”

“Oh, Euan!  Yes, we all know now!...  I have scarce slept since I heard, thinking of you....  When you have paid your respects to my mother and to Lana, come quietly away with me again.  Lana has been weeping—­ what with the distant music of the approaching regiments, and the memory of him who will come no more——­”

“I understand.”

She lifted her face to mine, laying her hands upon my shoulders.

“Dost thou truly love me, Lois?” I asked.

* “Sat-kah-tos,” she murmured.

[* “Thou seest.”]

* “Se-non-wes?” I insisted.

[* “Dost thou love?”]

* “Ke-non-wes, O Loskiel.”  Her arms tightened around my neck, “Ai-hai!  Ae-saya-tyen-endon!  Ae-sah-hah-i-yen-en-hon——­”