The Captain’s voice told me to enter when I had knocked at the door the messenger indicated. On the rough table was a smoking hot meal. Of all the confused assemblage the cook, it seemed, had kept his head. I did full justice to the roast deer’s flesh, and the fish with the yellow corn bread that went with it. When the edge had gone from my appetite the Captain told me of the situation. A friendly savage had brought word of the Indian uprising two days ago. Messengers[Messengers] were sent to as many of the outlying farm houses as possible, and the people made all haste to the fort.
“Can you stand a siege?” I asked, wishing to know for Lucille’s sake, how matters stood.
“The place is stout enough,” said the Captain, “and we have men in sufficient numbers, with a goodly supply of powder and ball. But the provisions are a point of worry to me. There was not time enough to lay in a full larder, and, with all the women and children to feed beside the men at arms, I fear it will go hard if we are cooped up here for any time. But we will do the best we can.”
“How many men have you?”
“There are four score fit for fighting,” was the Captain’s answer.
At the close of the meal I made my excuses and went to find Lucille. She met me at the entrance of the women’s apartment, having come out to learn where I was. I told her how strong the fort was, how we had plenty of men to defend it with, and enough of ammunition for all the Indians in Jersey. She had recovered somewhat from her recent fatigue, and looked more beautiful than ever, with her hair tossed about, and the roses in her cheeks.
The women, she said, had been most kind to her.
“It is a comfort to speak to some one in petticoats again,” she said. “Just think, I have been over a month, and could not even learn if my skirt hung properly.”
“A most woeful lack,” I said mockingly. For there was no immediate danger now, and we could afford to jest.
“Truly a great deprivation,” said Lucille, laughing.