These, however, were purely faults of his military education.  To a commanding person and dignified manners, Captain Headley united a mind highly cultivated, and feelings and sentiments which could not fail to secure the respect even of those who were most ready to condemn that caution and prudence of character which so eminently distinguished his career as a subordinate soldier.  It was well known and conceded that, if he erred, the error grew not so much out of his own want of judgment, but was rather the fruit of the too great deference to authority which led him, implicitly, to adopt the judgment of others.  In the private relations of life, he was deservedly esteemed, excelling in all those higher accomplishments that ensure favor with society, and seldom fail to win for their possessor the approbation of women.  Such, indeed, had been his success in this particular application of the gifts with which nature had endowed him, that he had, for some years, been the possessor of the affections and the hand of one of the noblest of her sex, whom, however, we shall take a later opportunity of introducing to the reader.

The next officer in rank was Lieutenant Elmsley, married also, and about ten years the junior of Headley.  From causes, which will be explained in the coarse of our narrative, the subaltern did not incline to place that confidence in the measures and judgment of his captain, which, it has been shown, the latter almost invariably accorded to his superiors, and hence arose feelings, that, without absolutely alienating them—­for, in their relative military positions this could never be—­rendered their intercourse daily more and more formal, until, in the end, a sentiment almost of enmity prevailed.  In a remote garrison like this such an evil was the more to be regretted, even while there was the greater probability, from absence of serious occupation, of its occurrence.

The junior subaltern was Ensign Ronayne, a high-spirited young Southerner, who had now been three years at the post, and within that period, had, by his frank demeanor, and handsome person, won the regard of all—­military and civil—­there and in the neighborhood.  Enterprising, ardent, fearless, and chivalrous, this young man had passed the first year of what he, then, considered little short of banishment, in a restless desire for adventure; but at the end of that period, came a marked change over him, and the spirit that had panted exclusively for action, now bent before a gentler and a holier influence.

Last of the officers of this little fort, was the surgeon.  Doctor Von Vottenberg, who as his name would imply, was a descendant from one of the earlier Dutch settlers in the colonies.  There was nothing remarkable about this gentleman.  He was short, stoat, rather of a bilious temperament—­clever in his profession, and much addicted to compounding whisky punch, which he not only brewed, but drank most satisfactorily.  What other attributes and accomplishments he possessed, the incidents herein related must develop.