"Well," replied the figure, supporting a prettily rounded chin on
her hands, as she laid her elbows complacently on the wall,--"well,
what did you expect? Did you want me to stand here all night,
while you skulked moonstruck under a tree? Or did you look for me
to call you by name? did you expect me to shout out, 'Capt. Allan
Brewster--'"

"Thankful, hush!"

"Capt. Allan Brewster of the Connecticut Contingent," continued the
girl, with an affected raising of a low, pathetic voice that was,
however, inaudible beyond the tree. "Capt. Brewster, behold me,--
your obleeged and humble servant and sweetheart to command."

Capt. Brewster succeeded, after a slight skirmish at the wall, in
possessing himself of the girl's hand; at which; although still
struggling, she relented slightly.

"It isn't every lad that I'd low for," she said, with an affected
pout, "and there may be others that would not take it amiss; though
there be fine ladies enough at the assembly halls at Morristown as
might think it hoydenish?"

"Nonsense, love," said the captain, who had by this time mounted
the wall, and encircled the girl's waist with his arm. "Nonsense!
you startled me only. But," he added, suddenly taking her round
chin in his hand, and turning her face toward the moon with an
uneasy half-suspicion, "why did you take that light from the
window? What has happened?"