“It is some trick,” whispered my father, with suppressed anger. “I cannot hear a sound.”
“No; I feel sure he was in earnest. He certainly believed he saw the Indians.”
My father turned to the General, and they conversed together in a low voice for some minutes, during which I stood there feeling as if I were wrong, and forgetting that even if I were it was only a case of being over anxious in our cause.
“No, no,” I heard the General say quietly; “don’t blame the boys. Of course it is vexatious, and seems like harassing the men for nothing; but it has its good side, for it proves how quickly we can man our defences. Well, what do you say—shall we go back to our beds? There seems to be no danger. Ah, here is Preston. Well, have you been all round?”
“Right round, sir, and there does not seem to be anything moving. A false alarm, I think.”
“Yes,” said the General, “a false alarm, and— What is it?”
My father had caught his arm in a strong grip, and pointed over the palisade.
“I don’t know what it is,” he whispered; “but something is moving out yonder, a hundred yards away.”
Amidst a dead silence every eye was fixed in the direction pointed to by my father; but no one else could make anything out, and the General said—
“No; I cannot see it.”