“The Adjutant says that he will see you, Madam.”
Segwuna tripped lightly to the door and entered the presence of one of the most polished and handsome gentlemen of the British army. Dressed in the most fastidious manner, his young and pleasing face shone out with an animated expression of good-will as he arose and bowed gracefully to Segwuna and said:
“Be seated, Miss Segwuna. I have heard very pleasing accounts of you from Madam Clinton. Do you wish to tell me what my fate will be, this evening?”
He had heard the ladies of his acquaintance raving over the wise and peculiar speeches of this Indian maiden, and Major Andre thought that he also ought to have something to relate.
A weak point in the military composition of Andre was his romantic and artistic disposition. He loved the society of ladies. His graceful manners and polished speech and writings gained him friends among the ladies of his associates; but his love of foibles and gossip led him into channels that detracted from his military achievements.
When Segwuna proposed to tell his fortune, he yielded from the very constitution of his nature. He desired to have a good tale to tell his lady friends at the next dinner party, where he was sure to be lionized.
Segwuna simply replied to Major Andre’s question, modestly:
“Yes, Major Andre.”
“I hope that I have no very bad omen in my fortune, Miss Segwuna?” said Andre, quizzically.
“Well, Segwuna shall have to tell you the truth, Major Andre,” replied Segwuna soberly.