"Hoity, toity, my dear. I didn't expect all this," cried the Colonel in distress. "If I had known things had come to such a pass I would have sent the rascal away long ago."
With a strong effort Helen controlled herself.
"Oh, do not mention it again, please," she pleaded, "or his name either. Harold even does not know it. I just thought it was something I had to bear, but it was killing me. How can I ever thank you enough?"
For answer the good old Colonel stooped down and kissed the weeping woman.
Three days later, the fifty men with Sir George and Captain Cummings at their head started for Toronto. Adieux were said, but somehow Lieutenant Smith did not find it necessary to have his conference with the Colonel.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
It was a beautiful day in the autumn when the frigate Beaver passed McNab Island and sailed up the long harbor to Halifax. Wonderful tints of the forest, from russet brown through red, orange and yellow, to the dark green of the juniper, stretched out beyond the little city, while orchard trees laden with fruit, pasture lands cropped by the cows, and stubble fields still golden from the harvest, added zest to the outlook of the tired soldiers coming home from the war.
On the deck of the frigate sat Captain Morris, surrounded by a number of men. The sick, the wounded, the well, were there; but they numbered all told scarcely a third of the force that went out hale and buoyant for the conflict only a few months before.
It had been heralded that the Halifax column was returning, and people gathered at the dock to welcome them as they neared the landing. Among the little groups of red-coats standing close together many a face was recognized, and when Captain Morris, aided by a subaltern, rose to his feet, the whole company were greeted with an enthusiastic cheer.
"Another for Captain Morris," called out a soldier fresh from the Citadel. And they gave it.