Yet, one evening soon afterward, he saw something which for the moment interested him very much. Elizabeth, with Nancy Foster who was now more companion than maid, was walking slowly toward her tent. Both were looking at the gorgeous sunset. Its brilliancy, vying with that of the deadly fireworks, offered a contrast all the more striking in its restfulness and happy promise. The two women had grown somewhat accustomed to the cannonade, and as they went on they seemed to be talking without noticing it. Just then a figure in captain's uniform came quickly up the slope toward them, and with a most respectful salute, stood bare-headed before Elizabeth.
"Edmonson," commented the General even before he caught sight of his face. "Nobody else has that perfection of manner. Stephen won't condescend to it. Edmonson is the most graceful fellow I know. And, upon honor, I believe he is the most graceless. But his theories can't harm that woman." Yet as Pepperell stood watching the young man's expression now that it was turned toward him, and understood by his gestures the eager flow of words that was greeting Elizabeth, he held his breath a moment with a new perception, muttered a little, and stood staring with the frown deepening on his face. He wanted to catch her answering look, but she had turned about in speaking and her back was toward him. In an impatient movement at this, he changed his own range of vision somewhat, and all at once caught sight of another face, also bent upon Elizabeth with eager curiosity to catch her expression. Pepperell turned away delighted. "After all, he's not too much of a grand seigneur to have a little human curiosity," he chuckled, watching the new figure. "Yes, we'll do very well to go on a reconnoitering expedition together, you and I, Captain Archdale!" And he laughed to himself as he slipped quietly away, without having been perceived. "More news to write to pretty Mistress Katie," he commented, still full of amusement. Then his thoughts went back again to the problem that was growing daily more perplexing. And as he was again becoming absorbed in it, he was conscious of an undercurrent of wonder that he could ever have laughed. The thing next to be done was to make an attack up Island Battery, the one most serviceable to the enemy, most annoying to themselves. So long as that belched forth its fires against them, Warren's fleet must remain outside, and there could be no combined attack upon the city, and Louisburg was still unconquerable. Any day might bring a French fleet to its rescue, and then the game was up. Beyond question, Island Battery must be attacked, but it was a difficult and dangerous attempt, and Pepperell sat with his head upon his hand, thinking of the men that must fall even if it were successful. Still, every day now some among the soldiers were smitten down by disease and the French ships were nearer. It was only a question of sacrificing a part of his army or the whole of it. Warren was right to urge the measure, and it must be pressed upon his Council. But Pepperell felt as if he were being asked to sign a hundred death-warrants.
It was not quite time for the members of his Council to assemble. He went to the nearest battery where the firing was hottest, sighted the direction of the guns, examined the state of the city walls where these had been played upon by them, cheered the gunners with his praise, even jested with one of them, and left the men more full of confidence in him, more desirous than ever to please him, and, if possible, more resolved to win the day. Not a trace of anxiety in his face or his tones had betrayed the weight that was upon him. Then he went back to his tent. The Council had assembled. When he took his place at the head, he had forgotten the incident that a few minutes before had moved him to laughter.
Archdale stood motionless. The underbrush hid him from the speakers, and he was too far off to hear a word. It seemed to him that Elizabeth wished to shorten the interview, for soon Edmonson with another of his inimitable bows retired and she passed on. As Stephen caught sight of her face he saw that it was troubled. "He shall not persecute her," he said to himself. Nancy had gone on while Edmonson was speaking to her mistress, and now Elizabeth following was almost at the door of her temporary home, when a hand was laid heavily upon Archdale's shoulder, and Vaughan's hearty voice cried;—
"Come on! I'm going to speak to our charming, brave young lady there. I want to tell her how proud of her courage I am. Come on! he repeated. Stephen followed. He had not taken her determination in this way. He thought her unwise and rash, and hated to have her there. And yet he could not deny that the camp had seemed a different place since she had entered it.
"You take it that way," he said to Vaughan. "But I think we should be feeling that she may get hit some of these days, or be down with fever."
"We'll hope not," returned the other cheerfully. "Let us look on the bright side. She is doing a work of mercy, and we will trust that a merciful Providence will protect her. We were just talking about you, Mistress Royal," he continued, striding up to Elizabeth and grasping her hand warmly. "Stephen, here, says he's always thinking you'll get hit somehow, or get a fever. I say, look on the bright side of things, 'trust in the Lord,' as old Cromwell used to put it."
"'And keep your powder dry,'" finished Archdale. "It's not safe to quote things by halves. Decidedly, this staying is not a prudent thing."
"I didn't know that beseiging Louisburg could be called a prudent thing," she returned. "And so we're all in the same boat."