"You are a soldier's daughter, Maud"--This was as true of major
Meredith as of captain Willoughby, and might therefore be freely said
by even Bob--"You are a soldier's daughter, and nature has clearly
intended you to be a soldier's wife. This is a _coup-d'-oeil_ not
to be despised."

"I shall never be a wife at all"--murmured Maud, scarce knowing what
she said; "I may not live to be a soldier's daughter, even, much
longer. But, why are _you_ here?--surely, surely _you_ can
have no connection with those savages!--I have heard of such horrors;
but _you_ would not accompany _them_, even though it were to
_protect_ the Hut."

"I'll not answer for that, Maud. One would do a great deal to preserve
his paternal dwelling from pillage, and his father's grey hairs from
violence. But I came alone; that party and its objects being utterly
strangers to me."

"And _why_ do you come at all, Bob?" inquired the anxious girl,
looking up into his face with open affection--"The situation of the
country is now such, as to make your visits very hazardous."

"Who could know the regular major in this hunting-shirt, and forest
garb? I have not an article about my person to betray me, even were I
before a court. No fear for me then, Maud; unless it be from these
demons in human shape, the savages. Even they do not seem to be very
fiercely inclined, as they appear at this moment more disposed to eat,
than to attack the Hut. Look for yourself; those fellows are certainly
preparing to take their food; the group that is just now coming over