“It’s little you’ll make o’ that, Mistress Mabel,” put in Muir; “that’s little by nature.  Lundie —­ or it might be better to style him Major Duncan in this presence” (this was said in consideration of the corporal and the common men, though they were taking their meal a little apart) —­“has not added an empire to his Majesty’s dominions in getting possession of this island, which is likely to equal that of the celebrated Sancho in revenues and profits —­Sancho, of whom, doubtless, Master Cap, you’ll often have been reading in your leisure hours, more especially in calms and moments of inactivity.”

“I know the spot you mean, Quartermaster; Sancho’s Island —­ coral rock, of new formation, and as bad a landfall, in a dark night and blowing weather, as a sinner could wish to keep clear of.  It’s a famous place for cocoanuts and bitter water, that Sancho’s Island.”

“It’s no’ very famous for dinners,” returned Muir, repressing the smile which was struggling to his lips out of respect to Mabel; “nor do I think there’ll be much to choose between its revenue and that of this spot.  In my judgment, Master Cap, this is a very unmilitary position, and I look to some calamity befalling it, sooner or later.”

“It is to be hoped not until our turn of duty is over,” observed Mabel.  “I have no wish to study the French language.”

“We might think ourselves happy, did it not prove to be the Iroquois.  I have reasoned with Major Duncan on the occupation of this position, but ‘a wilfu’ man maun ha’ his way.’  My first object in accompanying this party was to endeavor to make myself acceptable and useful to your beautiful niece, Master Cap; and the second was to take such an account of the stores that belong to my particular department as shall leave no question open to controversy, concerning the manner of expenditure, when they shall have disappeared by means of the enemy.”

“Do you look upon matters as so serious?” demanded Cap, actually suspending his mastication of a bit of venison —­ for he passed alternately from fish to flesh and back again —­ in the interest he took in the answer.  “Is the danger pressing?”

“I’ll no’ say just that; and I’ll no’ say just the contrary.  There is always danger in war, and there is more of it at the advanced posts than at the main encampment.  It ought, therefore, to occasion no surprise were we to be visited by the French at any moment.”

“And what the devil is to be done in that case?  Six men and two women would make but a poor job in defending such a place as this, should the enemy invade us; as, no doubt, Frenchman-like, they would take very good care to come strong-handed.”