Barclugh recognized the fact that the fates were against him and he concluded that the better part of valor was to wait for a more propitious time. However, something within told him that the present was his opportunity, for he thought: “He who hesitates is lost.” The road now took them over the Wingohocking as the crimson setting of the sun shone over the rippling water and the autumnal hues of the landscape mellowed the disappointment in his breast. When the avenue of hemlocks at Dorminghurst was passed and he led Mollie from her horse up to the portico, Miss Mollie smiled more than graciously as she said: “Now, Mr. Barclugh, I shall depend upon you at my party for the minuet.” “Thank you, Miss Greydon,” replied Barclugh, bowing very low, “but don’t forget that I shall claim my answer in another week.” CHAPTER XXXVI We next find Segwuna in New York. She was well acquainted with the way thither, for she had traversed it many times. While pursuing her purpose in New York, Segwuna lived with a small band of Iroquois on Staten Island. Segwuna found much favor among the ladies of the English officers, for her skill as a prophetess was already established. She now made it her particular business to call often upon the ladies of General Clinton and General Knypthausen; and, also, upon Major Andre in his office, one afternoon, when the principal business of the day was over. The offices of the Adjutant-General of the British Army were at No. 1 Broadway, in one of those old Dutch houses the entrance of which led up a short flight of steps to a huge door having an iron knocker. Dormer windows faced the street in the second story, and the hip roof was covered with shingles that were coated with moss and lichens,--evidences of an ancient construction. When Segwuna rapped with the iron knocker on the huge door, a red-coated English Sergeant opened it, and the prophetess modestly inquired: “Is Major Andre in?” “Yes, Madam,” was the reply. “May I see him?” “He is very busy,” returned the Sergeant. “Will you give your name, and state your business?” “Tell him that Segwuna, the Indian prophetess, has news to tell him.” “Will you come in and be seated?” continued the military man, who ushered her into the outer office of the Adjutant-General. Segwuna went into the outer office and sat down while the Sergeant rapped on the door of the private office, and a voice within said: “Come in.” The Sergeant opened the door carefully and walked up to the desk of the Adjutant-General and stood at attention until Major Andre turned from a letter on his desk and glanced up at the soldier, who saluted: “What is it?” brusquely asked Andre. “A young Indian woman, who calls herself Segwuna, the prophetess, wishes to bring you news.” “Show her in, Sergeant Donovan,” ordered Andre. The Sergeant went to the outer office, and politely informed Segwuna: “The Adjutant says that he will see you, Madam.”