[MRS. SECORD _drinks the coffee, and again rises, but can
scarcely stand_.
_49th man (saluting_). Sir, me an' Bill has here a hammock ready,
An' volunteers to see the lady safe.
Among her friends.
_Mrs. Secord_. But I can walk.
_Fitzgibbon_. Madam, you cannot. Let these carry you;
An honour I do grudge them. I shall move
With better heart knowing you cared for.
_Mrs. Secord_. I'll go at once--
_Fitzgibbon_. Men, bring your hammock hither.
(_The hammock is brought, and_ MRS. SECORD _is assisted into it
by_ LIEUT. FITZGIBBON, _who wraps a blanket round her. The men fall
into line, and salute as she passes. At the door she offers her hand
to_ FITZGIBBON.)
_Mrs. Secord_. Farewell, sir. My best thanks for all your goodness,
Your hospitality, and this, your escort;
You do me too much honour.
_Fitzgibbon_. Should we not
Show our respect for one has done so much
For us? We are your debtors, madam.
[_He points to the sky, set thick with brilliant stars, the moon
having already set_.
See how the eyes of heaven look down on you,
And smile, in gentle approbation
Of a most gentle deed. I pray they light
You safely to your friends.
_Mrs. Secord_. And you to victory, sir. Farewell.
[FITZGIBBON _bows_.
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