“All right, do you believe that I am going to succeed in my enterprise, Segwuna?” asked Andre, bluntly.
“That depends on the will of the Great Spirit, Major Andre,” began Segwuna, as she started to relate her account to the Adjutant-General.
“Segwuna sees that something very momentous to you and your cause is going to happen this moon. The nature of your business concerns the fate of a great fortress and a brave general. I can see the general walking up and down the bank of a great river, waiting to speak to you. He wants you to come to him, but if you go to him, he is sure to give you directions that will bring ruin to you.
“These enterprises will require you to travel by land and by water. If you keep on the water, you will have no harm come to you, but beware of the land.
“The Great Spirit has been kind to you, but he does not love your cause. You are fighting against the will of the Great Spirit when you try to subdue the land to which he gave the Indian corn. The Great Spirit hath decreed that every man is to be his own master, and there is to be no distinction between men, in the land of the Indian’s corn. If the hunters starve, the chiefs are to starve also.
“I can see that you expect a letter of importance. It is to be brought by a boat and a fisherman from a distant city. The letter comes from a gentleman that has your secrets. He writes under a different name from his own.
“There are many trials for you to pass through during the next moon, and if you leave the city on a journey to the general walking on the banks of the great river, you shall lose your life.”
Segwuna paused and said no more.
Andre sat as though fixed to his chair. His thoughts were afar off. The words of the Indian maiden seemed to stun him, and confound his understanding. He started to rise and to speak, but he sat down again, turned away and began to think.
At last he regained enough presence of mind to state to Segwuna: