Sentry. And then how got you here?
Mrs. Secord. I left my home
At daybreak, and have walked through the deep woods
The whole way since I left St. David's Mill.
Sentry. 'Tis past belief, did not your looks accord.
And still you have a weary way to go,
And through more woods. Could I but go with you,
How gladly would I! Such deed as yours
Deserves more thanks than I can give. Pass, friend,
All's well.
[MRS. SECORD passes the Sentry, who turns and walks with her.
Mrs. Secord. There's naught to fear, I hope, but natural foes,
Lynxes or rattlesnakes, upon my way.
Sentry. There are some Mohawks ambushed in the wood,
But where I cannot quite point out; they choose
Their ground themselves, but they are friends, though rough,—
Some of Kerr's band, Brant's son-in-law. You'll need
To tell the chief your errand should you cross him.
Mrs. Secord. Thanks: for I rather fear our red allies.
Is there a piquet?
Sentry. No, not near me; our men are all too few—
A link goes to and fro 'twixt me and quarters,
And is but just now left (he turns sharp about).
My limit this—
Yonder your road (he points to the woods).
God be wi' you. Good-bye.
Mrs. Secord. Good-bye, my friend.
[Exit MRS. SECORD.