A conference that took place soon after between Sergeant Dunham and the Lieutenant led to more consequences.  When it was ended, secret orders were issued to the men, the blockhouse was taken possession of, the huts were occupied, and one accustomed to the movements of soldiers might have detected that an expedition was in the wind.  In fact, just as the sun was setting, the Sergeant, who had been much occupied at what was called the harbor, came into his own hut, followed by Pathfinder and Cap; and as he took his seat at the neat table which Mabel had prepared for him, he opened the budget of his intelligence.

“You are likely to be of some use here, my child,” the old soldier commenced, “as this tidy and well-ordered supper can testify; and I trust, when the proper moment arrives, you will show yourself to be the descendant of those who know how to face their enemies.”

“You do not expect me, dear father, to play Joan of Arc, and to lead the men to battle?”

“Play whom, child?  Did you ever hear of the person Mabel mentions, Pathfinder?”

“Not I, Sergeant; but what of that?  I am ignorant and unedicated, and it is too great a pleasure to me to listen to her voice, and take in her words, to be particular about persons.”

“I know her,” said Cap decidedly; “she sailed a privateer out of Morlaix in the last war; and good cruises she made of them.”

Mabel blushed at having inadvertently made an allusion that went beyond her father’s reading, to say nothing of her uncle’s dogmatism, and, perhaps, a little at the Pathfinder’s simple, ingenuous earnestness; but she did not forbear the less to smile.

“Why, father, I am not expected to fall in with the men, and to help defend the island?”

“And yet women have often done such things in this quarter of the world, girl, as our friend, the Pathfinder here, will tell you.  But lest you should be surprised at not seeing us when you awake in the morning, it is proper that I now tell you we intend to march in the course of this very night.”

“We, father! and leave me and Jennie on this island alone?”

“No, my daughter; not quite as unmilitary as that.  We shall leave Lieutenant Muir, brother Cap, Corporal M’Nab, and three men to compose the garrison during our absence.  Jennie will remain with you in this hut, and brother Cap will occupy my place.”

“And Mr. Muir?” said Mabel, half unconscious of what she uttered, though she foresaw a great deal of unpleasant persecution in the arrangement.

“Why, he can make love to you, if you like it, girl; for he is an amorous youth, and, having already disposed of four wives, is impatient to show how much he honors their memories by taking a fifth.”

“The Quartermaster tells me,” said Pathfinder innocently, “that when a man’s feelings have been harassed by so many losses, there is no wiser way to soothe them than by ploughing up the soil anew, in such a manner as to leave no traces of what have gone over it before.”