“I would not have dared.  Not that I wanted to:  we three brothers were always the best of friends.”

“You are an affectionate family, Mr. Wilders; I have long been convinced of that,” said Mrs. Wilders, who could not leave the subject alone.

But now the gig, impelled by six stout oarsmen, was nearing the Waterport Guard, and was already under the shadow of the frowning batteries of the Devil’s Tongue.  High above them rose the sheer straight wall of the rock, bristling with frowning fortifications, line above line, and countless embrasures armed with heavy artillery.

The wharf itself was crowded with the usual motley polyglot gathering—­sailors of all nations, soldiers of the garrison, Spanish peasants from the neighbouring villages, native scorpions, policemen, and inspectors of strangers.

“How amusing!  How interesting!  It’s like a scene in a play!” cried Mrs. Wilders, as she stepped ashore.

Escorted by her husband and cousin, they pushed their way through the crowd towards the Waterport gateway, and under it into the main ditch.  As they approached there was a cry of “Guard, turn out!” and the Waterport Guard, under its officer, fell in with open ranks to give the general a salute.  General Wilders acknowledged the compliment, and, while he stood there with two fingers to his hat, Sergeant McKay advanced and reported himself.

“Your orderly, sir.”

“Eh! what?” said the general, a little surprised.  “My orderly!  Very considerate of Sir Thomas,” he went on.  “One of the Royal Picts, too, and a guard from the same regiment!  Most attentive, I’m sure!”

The general went up at once to the front rank of the guard, and proceeded to inspect the men carefully.  With his own hands he altered the hang of the knapsacks and the position of the belts; he measured in the regular way, with two fingers, the length of the pouch below the elbow, grumbling to himself as he went along.

“So you use harness-blacking for your pouches.  I don’t approve of that.  And your pipe-clay; it’s got too blue a tinge.”

While he lingered thus fondly over the trifling details that, to his mind, summed up the whole duty of a general officer, his wife’s voice was heard impatiently calling him to her side.

“Come, general, don’t be all day!  How can you waste time over such nonsense!”

“My dear,” said her husband, gravely, as he rejoined her, “this regiment is to form part of my brigade”—­McKay pricked up his ears—­“it is the first time I have seen any of it.  You must allow me—­”

“I am going on into the town; inspecting guards doesn’t amuse me,” and the general discreetly abandoned his professional duties and walked on by her side.

The guard was dismissed by its commander; the men “lodged arms” and went back to the guard-room.  Only Sergeant Hyde remained outside, watching the retreating figures of the Wilders’ party.