“Winnebeg know all,” said the chief gravely, as he laid his heavy hand upon the shoulder of the commandant, “but can't tell. Young chief say no, and Winnebeg love young chief.”
This remark forcibly struck Captain Headley, and brought back to his mind, certain recollections. He, however, asked no further question, but pointed, as they moved in the direction of his own apartments, towards the sun, showing by his gesture that it was not too early to take the mid-day dram.
“Where the devil have you been, man, and with what confounded impudence you got through the scrape,” was remarked at a distant part of the same ground, and at the same moment with the conversation just given.
“How is Maria?” eagerly asked Ronayne. “When shall I see her?”
“Well enough to hear all that passed between you and Military Prudence,” returned his friend; “but that is no answer to my question.”
“There was nothing like braving it,” answered the other evasively; “but I say, Elmsley, I am devilish hungry, that breakfast you invited me to last night is over long ago, of course.” This last sentence was uttered in a mock piteous tone.
“Just what I was going to speak about, my dear boy. We have had number ONE, but before half an hour, we shall be seated at number TWO. When your sergeant has relieved his sentries, come over and you will find a piping hot breakfast.”
“Will it be quite consistent with military prudence to leave my guard so soon, after the lecture I have had?” remarked the ensign, with a smile—“but, ah! I had nearly forgotten. Elmsley, I must say a few words to you before I go in, and a better opportunity cannot be afforded than while we are walking from this to your place. Just go then, and order the breakfast as you propose, and return here. I shall have completed the arrangements of the guard by that time, and all that I have to ask of you, can be answered as we go along.”
“I hope it is no great secret you have to impart,” returned the lieutenant, “for I am a sad hand at the mysterious, and shall be sure to tell my wife, if I do not tell Maria.”
“Not you—you will tell neither, but au revoir.”