It was near sunset when Ronayne, who, with the robust Catherine, had carefully lifted the invalid into the centre of the scow, reached the landing-place below the Fort.  Here were collected several of the women of the company, and among them Mrs. Elmsley, who had come down to meet and welcome those for whose reception she had made every provision the hurried notice she had received would permit.  The young officer had been the first to step on shore, and after he had whispered something in her ear, she for a moment communicated with the group of women—­then advanced to meet Miss Heywood, whom her lover was now handing from the scow.  She embraced her with a tenderness so unusually affectionate, that a vague consciousness of the true cause flashed across the mind of the anxious girl, recalling back all that inward grief of soul, which the deep emotion of an engrossing love had for a time absorbed.

In less than half-an-hour the fugitives were installed in the council hall, and in another small apartment, dividing it from the rooms occupied by the Elmsleys.  The ensign, having seen that all was arranged in a suitable manner in the former, went out to the parade-ground, leaving the ladies in charge of their amiable hostess, and of the women she had summoned to assist in bearing the latter into the Fort.

On his way to his rooms, he met Captain Headley returning from an inspection of the defences.  He saluted him, and was in the act of addressing him in a friendly and familiar tone, when he was checked by the sharply-uttered remark: 

“So, sir, you are returned at last.  It seems to me that you have been much longer absent than was necessary.”

The high spirit of the youth was chafed.  “Pardon me, sir,” he answered haughtily, “if I contradict you.  No one of the least feeling would have thought of removing such an invalid as Mrs. Heywood is, without using every care her condition required.  Have you any orders for me, Captain Headley?” he concluded, in a more respectful manner, for he had become sensible, the moment after he had spoken, of his error in thus evincing asperity under the reproof of his superior.

“You are officer of the guard, I believe, Mr. Ronayne?”

“No, sir, Mr. Elmsley relieved me this morning.”

At that moment the last-named officer came up, on his way to the ensign’s quarters, when, the same question having been put to him, and answered in the affirmative, Captain Headley desired that the moment the fishing-party came in they should be reported to him.  “And now, gentlemen,” he concluded, “I expect you both to be particularly on the alert to-night.  The absence of that fishing-party distresses me, and I would give much that they were back.”

“Captain Headley,” said the ensign, quickly and almost beseechingly, “let me pick out a dozen men from the company, and I pledge myself to restore the party before mid-day to-morrow.  Nay, sir,” seeing strong surprise and disapproval on the countenance of the commandant, “I am ready to forfeit my commission if I fail—­”