He was still gazing into the smouldering fire, when Terrence, who had won all the money from the soldier with whom he was playing cards, came to him and said: 

“Captain, are ye goin’ to spend the night gazing into the fire?”

“No, Terrence; I am not sleepy; but I will lie down.”

“Captain, do ye remember the little girl at Mariana five years ago, the one yersilf and the Englishman were about to break heads over?”

“You mean Morgianna Lane, Terrence?”

“To be sure I do.  I saw the swate craythur not two months since.”  Fernando, who was anything but sleepy, asked: 

“Where did you see her, Terrence?”

“In Baltimore.  She is prettier than whin you used to stroll over the beach in the moonlight with her.”

“Is she married?”

“Divil a bit.  I talked with her, and, d’ye belave me, almost the first question she asked me was about yersilf.  Aye, Fernando, it was a grand story I told her about ye making a hero of yersilf.  I told her how ye defeated Tecumseh and killed the thief with yer own hand, and how ye conquered at Chippewa and Lundy’s Lane.”

Fernando’s heart gave a tremendous bound.  Had she really asked about him?  Then she had not forgotten him in five long years.  Could this be true?  Terrence had not the strictest regard for truth, and he might be only telling this out of mischief.

“Terrence, are you telling me the truth?” he asked.

“Ivery blissid word of it is the gospel truth, me frind,” Terrence answered.  “The little girl still lives at the village beyant Baltimore, and if ye want her, ye kin win her.”

“Terrence, you are trifling with me; Morgianna cares nothing for me.”

“Don’t ye belave it.  If she didn’t, why did she ask about ye the very first chance she had?  Me boy, whin a girl remembers a fellow after five years, it’s some sign.  Now if ye want that blushin’ damsel, lave it all to me.”

“Terrence, let us go to sleep, we have a hard march before us to-morrow.”

“I take it at yer word, captain.”

In less than ten minutes the light-hearted Irishman was buried in slumber.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE CRUISER’S THREAT.

Terrence and Sukey both volunteered to accompany Fernando’s detached riflemen in the vigorous campaign which was before them.  Fernando’s riflemen now numbered one hundred and sixty-two, composed mostly of frontiersmen, all dead shots.  Sukey declared that he was in the game and would kill a British officer for every stripe Captain Snipes had caused to be laid on his shoulders.

“There were twelve blows, nine stripes each.  Nine times twelve are one hundred and eight.”

“And have ye got the job all before ye, Sukey?” asked Terrence.

“I’ve commenced.  Eight have been blotted out.  Only a hundred remains,” Sukey answered solemnly.