"Major Montgomerie."
"So I suspected. Was the other of my regiment?"
"The other," said the General, "bears no commission, and is simply a volunteer in the expedition—one, in short, whose earnest wish to reach Detroit, was the principal motive for my offering the Major his liberty on parole."
"And may I ask the name of this individual, so unimportant in rank, and yet so filled with ardor in the cause, as to be thus anxious to gain the theatre of war?"
"One probably not unknown to you, Colonel, as the niece of your brother officer—Miss Montgomerie."
"Miss Montgomerie here!" faltered the American, rising and paling as he spoke, while he mechanically placed on the table a glass of wine he had the instant before raised to his lips—"surely it cannot be."
There was much to excite interest, not only in the changed tone but in the altered features of the American, as he thus involuntarily gave expression to his surprise. The younger officers winked at each other, and smiled their conviction of une affaire de cœur—while the senior were no less ready to infer that they had now arrived at the true secret of the impatience of Miss Montgomerie to reach the place of her destination. To the penetrating eye of the General, however, there was an expression of pain on the countenance of the officer, which accorded ill with the feeling which a lover might be supposed to entertain, who had been unexpectedly brought nearer to an object of attachment, and he kindly sought to relieve his evident embarrassment by remarking:
"I can readily comprehend your surprise, Colonel. One would scarcely have supposed that a female could have had courage to brave the dangers attendant on an expedition of this kind, in an open boat; but Miss Montgomerie I confess, appears to me to be one whom no danger could daunt, and whose resoluteness of purpose, once directed, no secondary object could divert from its original aim."
Before the officer could reply, Colonel D'Egville, who had absented himself during the latter part of the conversation, returned, and addressing the former in terms that proved their acquaintance to have been of previous date, invited him to partake of some refreshment that had been prepared for him in an adjoining apartment. This the American at first faintly declined, on the plea of delay having been prohibited by his chief; but, on the general jocosely remarking that, sharing their hospitality on the present occasion would be no barrier to breaking a lance a week hence, he assented; and, following Colonel D'Egville, passed through a short corridor into a smaller apartment, where a copious but hurried refreshment had been prepared.
The entry of the officers was greeted by the presence of three ladies—Mrs. D'Egville and her daughters—all of whom received him with the frank cordiality that bespoke intimacy, while, on the countenance of one of the latter, might be detected evidences of an interest that had its foundation in something more than the mere esteem which dictated the conduct of her mother and sister. If Julia D'Egville was in reality the laughing, light hearted, creature represented in the mess room conversation of the officers of the garrison, it would have been difficult for a stranger to have recognised her in the somewhat serious girl who now added her greetings to theirs, but in a manner slightly tinctured with embarrassment.