_Maid_. I wonder who is fluting under that tree there, so late. They are serenading that Dutch woman, as I live. _Lady A_. The Baroness, are you talking of, Margaret? _Maid_. A baroness! Good sooth!--she looks like it, in that yellow silk, and those odious beads, fussing about. If your ladyship will believe me, I saw her sitting in her tent to-night, ay, in the door, feeding that wretched child with her own hands. We can't be thankful enough they did not put her in here with us, I'll own. _Lady A_. Hush, hush, for shame! We might well have spared that empty room. Come, we'll go in--It's very late. Strange that Sir George should not be here ere this. _Maid_. Look, my lady! Here's some one at the gate. (_An officer enters the little court, with a hasty step_.) _Officer_. Good evening to your ladyship.--Is Captain Maitland here?--Sir George told me that he left him here. _Lady A_. Ay, but he has been gone this hour. Stay, it is Andre's flute you hear below there, and some one has joined him just now--yes, it is he. _Off_. Under that tree;--thank you, my lady. _Lady A_. Stay, Colonel Hill,--I beg your pardon, but you spoke so hastily.--This young Maitland is a friend of ours, I trust there is nothing that concerns him painfully.-- _Off_. Oh nothing, nothing, except that he is ordered off to Fort Ann to-night. There are none of us that know these wild routes as well as he. [_Exit_. _Lady A_. Good Heavens! What noise is that? _Maid_. Lord 'a mercy! The battle is coming? _Lady A_. Hush! (_To a sentinel who goes whistling by_.) Sirrah, what noise is that? _Sentinel_. It's these Indians, my lady; they have found the son of some chief of theirs murdered in these woods, and they are bringing him to the camp now. That's the mourning they make. _Lady A_. The Lord protect us! (_They enter the house_.) * * * * * DIALOGUE V. SCENE. _The interior of a tent. Maitland, in travelling equipments, pacing the floor_. _Maitland_. William! Ho there! _Servant_. (_Looking in_.) Your honor? _Mait_. Is not that horse ready yet? _Ser't_. Presently, your honor. [_Exit_. _Mait_. So the fellow has been here, it seems, and returned again to Fort Edward without seeing me. Of course, my lady deigns no answer.--An answer! Well, I thought I expected none. Ten minutes ago I should have sworn I expected none. Why, by this time that letter of mine has gone the rounds of the garrison, no doubt. William! (_The servant enters_.) Bring that horse round, you rascal,--must I be under your orders too, forsooth? _Ser't_. Certainly, your honor,--but if he could but just,--I am a-going, Sir,--but if he could but just take a mouthful or two more. There's never a baiting-place till-- _Mait_. Do you hear?