JOEL. Yonder's the sergeant's jew's-harp. That's our signal, Nell. So long, colonel.
THE FIGURE. [Nodding.] So long, sonny.
ANDREW. [Holding Ellen's hands, passionately.] You understand? You do?
ELLEN. [Looking in his eyes.] I understand, dear.
[They kiss each other.
JOEL. [Calls low.] Come, you married turtles. The road's clear. Follow me now. Sneak.
[Carrying his knapsack, Joel climbs over the embankment and disappears.
[The thrumming of the jew's-harp continues.
[Ellen, taking the strip of silk flag from her shoulders, ties it to the standard.
ANDREW. [Faintly.] God bless you!