"Maybe the 'Saints' Rest' will quiet me a trifle," she thought; and,
striking a light, she attempted to read; but in vain, for every word
was a star, every line a stripe, and every leaf a flag. Shutting the
book and hurriedly pacing the floor, she exclaimed: "It's of no use
trying to sleep, or meditate either. Baxter himself couldn't do it
with that thing over his head, and I mean to take it down. It's a duty
I owe to King George's memory, and to Madam Conway;" and, stealing
from her room, she groped her way up the dark, narrow stairway, until,
emerging into the bright moonlight, she stood directly beneath the
American banner, waving so gracefully in the night wind. "It's a
clever enough device," she said, gazing rather admiringly at it. "And
I'd let it be if I s'posed I could sleep a wink; but I can't. It's
worse for my nerves than strong green tea, and I'll not lie awake for
all the Yankee flags in Christendom." So saying, the resolute little
woman tugged at the quilt-frame until she loosened it from its
fastenings, and then started to return.
But, alas! the way was narrow and dark, the banner was large and
cumbersome, while the lady that bore it was nervous and weak. It is
not strange, then, that Maggie, who slept at no great distance, was
awakened by a tremendous crash, as of someone falling the entire
length of the tower stairs, while a voice, frightened and faint,
called out; "Help me, Margaret, do! I am dead! I know I am!"
Striking a light, Maggie hurried to the spot, while her merry laugh
aroused the servants, who came together in a body.
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