There they stood,—­he, restrained by his arrest, unable to come forth; she, restrained more by his barring form than by any consideration of maidenly reserve, for, had he bidden, she would have gone within.  She had fully made up her mind that wherever he was, even were it behind the sentinels and bars of the guard-house, she would demand that she be taken to his side.  He had handed out a chair, but she would not sit.  They saw her looking up into his face as he talked, and noted the eager gesticulation, so characteristic of his Creole blood, that seemed to accompany his rapid words.  They saw her bending towards him, looking eagerly up in his eyes, and occasionally casting indignant glances over towards the group at the office, as though she would annihilate with her wrath the persecutors of her hero.  Then they saw her stretch forth both her hands with a quick impulsive movement, and grasp his one instant, looking so faithfully, steadfastly, loyally, into his clouded and anxious face.  Then she turned, and with quick, eager steps came tripping towards them.  They stood irresolute.  Every man felt that it was somebody’s duty to step forward, meet her, and be her escort though the party, but no one advanced.  There was, if anything, a tendency to sidle towards the office door, as though to leave the sidewalk unimpeded.  But she never sought to pass them by.  With flashing eyes and crimson cheeks, she bore straight upon them, and, with indignant emphasis upon every word, accosted them: 

“Captain Wilton, Major Sloat, I wish to see Captain Chester at once.  Is he in the office?”

“Certainly, Miss Beaubien.  Shall I call him? or will you walk in?” And both men were at her side in a moment.

“Thanks.  I will go right in,—­if you will kindly show me to him.”

Another moment, and Armitage and Chester, deep in the midst of their duties and surrounded by clerks and orderlies and assailed by half a dozen questions in one and the same instant, looked up astonished as Wilton stepped in and announced Miss Beaubien desiring to see Captain Chester on immediate business.  There was no time for conference.  There she stood in the door-way, and all tongues were hushed on the instant.  Chester rose and stepped forward with anxious courtesy.  She did not choose to see the extended hand.

“It is you, alone, I wish to see, captain.  Is it impossible here?”

“I fear it is, Miss Beaubien; but we can walk out in the open air.  I feel that I know what it is you wish to say to me,” he added, in a low tone, took his cap from the peg on which it hung, and led the way.  Again she passed through the curious, but respectful group, and Jerrold, watching furtively from his window, saw them come forth.

The captain turned to her as soon as they were out of earshot: 

“I have no daughter of my own, my dear young lady, but if I had I could not more thoroughly feel for you than I do.  How can I help you?”