“Yes, I know; but—­” said the young cadet, hesitatingly.

“You, or rather our grandfather, has influence enough to have you ordered to Washington, New York, Portsmouth—­any place.”

“Yes, I know; but—­”

“But what, Sylvan?”

“Cora, our grandfather’s influence is that of wealth—­great wealth—­and it is a mighty power in this world at this age; but, you see, Aaron Rockharrt would not use it in such a way.  He would not consider it honest to do so.  Nor would I have it either.  No; since the government has given me a free military education, I think it my duty to go exactly wherever they may order me, without attempting to evade orders through the influence of friends or money.”

“You are entirely right, dear brother.  And I tell you this:  Though I must and will remain with my grandfather so long as he shall need me—­so long as he shall live—­yet, when he departs, if you should be stationed at one of those border posts, I will go out and join you, Sylvan,” said Cora Rothsay, taking both his hands and pressing them warmly.

“No, dear sister; you shall not make such a sacrifice for me,” he answered.

“But after my aged grandfather, whose days on earth cannot be long, whom have I in this world to live for but you, Sylvan?”

“Other interests in life, I hope, will arise, sister, to give you happiness,” he replied.

Cora shook her head, and as the waiter now entered the parlor with the bedroom candles, she lighted one, bade her brother good night, and retired.

The next morning, as but one day of his leave of absence remained, the young cadet bade good-by to his friends, and left Rockhold for West Point, where he arrived the next morning just in time to report for duty, and save his honor.

Old Aaron Rockharrt went up to North End, where his sons awaited him; there to inspect the works, and commence proceedings toward that vast enterprise which the Iron King had planned out while in the city.

And from this day forth.  “Rockharrt & Sons” devoted all their energies to this mammoth speculation, while, as the months passed, it grew into huge and huger proportions, and great and greater success.

Old Aaron Rockharrt’s spirits rose with the splendor of his fortune.

He was nearly seventy-seven years of age, yet he said to himself, in effect:  “Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years.”

Cora, meanwhile, living a secluded and almost solitary life at Rockhold, occupied herself with a labor of love, in writing the life of her late husband, with extracts from his letters, speeches, and newspaper articles.  In doing this her soul seemed once more joined to his.

In this manner the year of mourning passed, and the month of January was at hand.

CHAPTER IX.

TURMOIL OF THE WORLD.

The Rockharrts were again in the State capital.  It was but thirteen months since the death of his wife and since the news of the murder of his grandson-in law had been received—­calamities which had doubly bereaved the family, and thrown them in the deepest mourning—­yet the Iron King, elated by his marvelous financial success, had thrown open his house to society, and insisted that his granddaughter should do its honors.