I considered. Then, again: "Have you any knowledge of what Fate intends concerning yourself?" "No, sir." "Nothing regarding your own future? That is strange." She shook her head, watching me. And then I laughed lightly: "Nothing, by any chance, concerning me, Penelope?" "Yes." I was so startled that I found no word to question her. "There is to be a battle," she said in a low voice. "Men will fight in the North. I do not know when. But there will be strange uniforms in the woods--not British red-coats.... And I know you, also, are to be there." Her voice sank to a whisper.... "And there," she breathed, "you shall meet Death ... or Love." When presently my composure returned to me, and I saw her still regarding me across the apple-bough, I felt inclined to laugh. "When did this strange knowledge come to you?" I asked, smiling my unbelief. "The day I first heard your voice at my cousin Bowman's--waking me in my bed--and I came out and saw you in the eye of the rising sun. _And you were not alone._ And instantly I saw a strange battle that is not yet fought--and I saw you--the way you stood--there--dark and straight in a blinding sheet of yellow light made by cannon!... The world was aflame, and I saw you, tall and dark, shadowed against the blaze--but you did not fall. "Then I came to my senses, and heard the bell ringing, and asked you what it meant. Do you remember?" "Yes." She released the apple-bough and came under it toward me, through a snow of falling blossoms. "It will surely happen--this battle," she said. "I knew it when I saw you, and that other figure near you, where I sat your stolen horse and heard you shout at me in anger, and turned to look at you--then, also, I caught a glimpse of that _other_ figure near you." "What other figure?" "The one which was wrapped in white--like a winding sheet--and veiled.... Like Death.... Or a bride, perhaps." A slight chill went over me, even in the warmth of the sun. But I laughed and said I knew not which would be the less welcome, having no stomach for Master Death, and even less, perhaps, for Mistress Bride. "Doubtless," said I, "you saw some ghost of the morning mist afloat from the wet earth where I stood." She made no answer. Now, as the carriage still tarried, though I had seen Colas taking out the horses, I asked her indulgence for a few moments, and walked over to the well, where my men still sat at stick-knife. And here I called Nick aside and laid one hand on his shoulder: "There was Indian smoke on Maxon an hour ago," said I. "Take Johnny Silver and travel the war trail north, but do not cross the creek to the east. I go as armed escort for a traveller to Caughnawaga, and shall return as soon as may be. Learn what you can and meet me here by sunrise tomorrow." Nick grinned and cast a sidelong glance at Penelope Grant, where she stood in the orchard, watching us.