"Such a lovely morning, papa, isn't it?" she said, standing with her hand fast clasped in his, but turning her eyes again upon sea and sky. "But where are we now? Almost at Fortress Monroe?"
"Look and tell me what you see," was his smiling rejoinder, as, with a hand on each of her shoulders, he turned her about so that she caught the view from the other side of the vessel.
"O papa, is that it?" she exclaimed. "Why, we're almost there, aren't we?"
"Yes; we will reach our anchorage within a few minutes."
"Oh, are we going to stop to see the old fort, papa?" she asked eagerly.
"I think we are," was his smiling rejoinder. "But you don't expect to find in it a relic of the Revolution, do you?" he asked laughingly, pinching her cheek, then bending down to kiss again the rosy face upturned to his.
"Why yes, papa; I have been thinking there must have been a fight there. Wasn't that the case?"
"No, daughter; the fortress was not there at that time."
"Was it in the war of 1812-14, then, papa?"
"No," he returned, smiling down on her. "The building of Fortress Monroe was not begun until 1817. However, there was a small fort built on Point Comfort in 1630; also, shortly before the siege of Yorktown, Count De Grasse had some fortifications thrown up to protect his troops in landing to take part in that affair."