Chapter 15

----"I could teach you,
How to choose right, but then I am forsworn;
So will I never be; so may you miss me;
But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin
That I had been forsworn."----

_Portia_.

Captain Willoughby knew that the hour which preceded the return of
light, was that in which the soldier had the most to apprehend, when in
the field. This is the moment when it is usual to attempt surprises;
and it was, in particular, the Indian's hour of blood. Orders had been
left, accordingly, to call him at four o'clock, and to see that all the
men of the Hut were afoot, and armed also. Notwithstanding the deserted
appearance of the valley, this experienced frontier warrior distrusted
the signs of the times; and he looked forward to the probability of an
assault, a little before the return of day, with a degree of concern he
would have been sorry to communicate to his wife and daughters.

Every emergency had been foreseen, and such a disposition made of the
forces, as enabled the major to be useful, in the event of an attack,
without exposing himself unnecessarily to the danger of being
discovered. He was to have charge of the defence of the rear of the
Hut, or that part of the buildings where the windows opened outwards;
and Michael and the two Plinys were assigned him as assistants. Nor was
the ward altogether a useless one. Though the cliff afforded a material
safeguard to this portion of the defences, it might be scaled; and, it
will be remembered, there was no stockade at all, on this, the northern

end of the house.

When the men assembled in the court, therefore, about an hour before
the dawn, Robert Willoughby collected his small force in the dining-
room, the outer apartment of the _suite_, where he examined their
arms by lamp-light, inspected their accoutrements, and directed them to
remain until he issued fresh orders. His father, aided by serjeant
Joyce, did the same in the court; issuing out, through the gate of the
buildings, with his whole force, as soon as this duty was performed.
The call being general, the women and children were all up also; many
of the former repairing to the loops, while the least resolute, or the
less experienced of their number, administered to the wants of the
young, or busied themselves with the concerns of the household. In a
word, the Hut, at that early hour, resembled a hive in activity, though
the different pursuits had not much affinity to the collection of
honey.

It is not to be supposed that Mrs. Willoughby and her daughters still
courted their pillows on an occasion like this. They rose with the
others, the grandmother and Beulah bestowing their first care on the
little Evert, as if _his_ life and safety were the