“I am sure the fatigue of the journey across the mountains must have left you quite weary,” he ventured, addressing her.  “There’s only the choice of sleeping, or of hanging over the deck rail and looking at these hills.”  He waved a hand toward a window, whence might be seen the near-by shores.

Josephine St. Auban showed no sign of perturbation as she answered:  “Not so weary as busy.  The duties of an amanuensis leave one small time for recreation.”  Her face was demureness itself.

[Illustration:  Josephine showed no sign of perturbation.]

The situation assumed swift complications.  Carlisle caught his cue, with alertness fairly to be called brilliant.  “Yes,” said he, “the young lady is of foreign education and family, and is most skilful in these respects.  I should find it difficult to carry forward my literary work without her able assistance.  It is a boon which even few public men have shared with myself.  You know, I am in the West in view of certain writings.”  He virtuously sat erect, with a fine air, presently pushing back his chair.

Dunwody looked from one to the other in perplexity.  He had expected to find a woman claiming his aid, or rather his acquaintance under excuse of a plea for aid.  He found both these apparently in league against him, and one of these apparently after all not what he had thought!  His face flushed.  Meantime Josephine St. Auban arose, bowed, and left them.

When the two men found themselves alone, Dunwody, for a time lost in moody silence, at length broke out into a peal of laughter.  “Well, human nature is human nature, I suppose.  I make no comment, further than to say that I consider all the lady’s fears were groundless.  She has been well treated.  There was no need to call for my aid.  The army is hard to defeat, Captain, and always was!”

“I had not myself regarded any officer in the light of an oppressor of the distressed amanuensis,” he went on.  “But come now, who is she?  You started to call her ‘Countess.’  Since when have countesses gone into secretarying?  Tut!  Tut! and again, my dear man, Tut!”

“Sir,” replied Carlisle, “I recall that when I was a youth, some of us, members of the Sabbath-school class, occasionally would ask our teacher a question on the Scriptures which he could not answer.  In that case he always said, ’My dear young friends, there are some things which are not for man to know.’”

“I accept my temporary defeat,” said Dunwody slowly.  “We’ll see.  But come, now, Captain, time is passing and the tables are yearning for trouble.  The army is distinguished not alone in love.  Draw-poker hath its victories, not less than war.  I told Jones and Judge Clayton and one or two others that I was pining for a little game of draw.  What do you say?  Should not all lesser questions be placed in abeyance?”

“That,” said the other, “comes to me at the present moment in the nature of an excellent compromise measure.  I am agreed!”