Jennifer came alive with a start, leaping up with a malediction between
his teeth upon our dallying.
"Too late, by God!" he cried. "They've trapped us like a pair of blind
moles!" And with that he caught up the ancient broadsword, only to swear
again when he found no room to swing it in.
Having the handier weapon, I slipped out before him, creeping on hands
and knees till I could see the leafy screen at the den's mouth, and the
shimmering reflection of the stars upon the water beyond it. There was
no sight nor sound of any enemy, and the canoe lay safe as Jennifer had
left it.
To make assurance sure, I would have scrambled to the bank above; but
at the moment Jennifer hallooed softly to me, and so I crept back into
the burrow.
"See here," he said, excitedly. "What a devil will you make of this?"
He had drawn the scattered embers together, fanning them ablaze again,
and had sought and found the arrow. It was a blunt-head reed and no war
shaft. And around the middle of it, tightly wrapped and tied with silken
threads, was a little scroll of parchment.
"'Tis the Catawba's arrow," said Jennifer, though how he knew I could
not guess; and then he cut the threads to free the scroll.
Unrolled and spread at large, the parchment proved to be that map of
Captain Stuart's that I had found and lost again. And on the margin of
it was my note to Jennifer, written in that trying moment when the
bribed sentry waited at the door and my sweet lady stood trembling
beside me, murmuring her "Holy Marys.
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