She had come to feel quite sure that Crailey was to be shot.
"But I've dreamed it--dreamed it six!" she cried, when he laughed, at her and tried to cheer her.

"And it comes to me in the day-time as though I saw it with my eyes: the picture of you in an officer's uniform, lying on the fresh, green grass, and a red stain just below the throat." "That shows what dreams are made of, dear lady," he smiled.

"We'll find little green grass in Mexico, and I'm only a corporal; so where's the officer's uniform ?" Then Fanchon wept the more, and put her arms about him, while it seemed to her that she must cling to him so forever and thus withhold him from fulfilling her vision, and that the gentle pressure of her arms must somehow preserve him to life and to her.

"Ah, you can't go, darling," she sobbed, while he petted her and tried to soothe her.

"You can't leave me! You belong to me! They can't, can't, can't take you away from me!" And when the flag was completed, save for sewing the stars upon the blue ground, she took it away from the others and insisted upon finishing the work herself.