so sudden and unexpected, that the major saw, at once, nothing but
perfect coolness could avert his discovery.

"Is't you, Dan'el"--so was the miller named. "What in natur' has
brought the old man on this tramp, with the valley filled with Injins?"
whispered Joel, prolonging the speech in order to get a better view of
a face and form that still baffled his conjectures. "Let's know all
about it."

"You'll get me into trouble," answered he major, shaking off his
unwelcome neighbour, moving a step further from him, and speaking also
in a whisper. "The captain's bent on a scout, and you know he'll not
bear contradiction. Off with you, then, and don't forget the milk."

As the major moved away, and seemed determined to baffle him, Joel had
no choice between complying and exposing his disobedience of orders to
the captain. He disliked doing the last, for his cue was to seem
respectful and attached, and he was fain to submit. Never before,
however, did Joel Strides suffer a man to slip through his fingers with
so much reluctance. He saw that the captain's companion was not the
miller, while the disguise was too complete to enable him to
distinguish the person or face. In that day, the different classes of
society were strongly distinguished from each other, by their ordinary
attire; and, accustomed to see major Willoughby only in the dress that
belonged to his station, he would not be likely to recognise him in his
present guise, had he even known of or suspected his visit. As it was,
he was completely at fault; satisfied it was not his friend Daniel,
while unable to say who it was.

In this doubting state of mind, Joel actually forgot the savages, and