"All right."
When the half-breed, muttering sleepily, was finally stationed on the piazza, with instructions to listen for the guns, they walked out to the river.
"Which way?" asked Robert.
"Either—I don't care."
The moon was shining brightly and the earth was exquisitely still. The Fort, transfigured by its mantle of silver sheen, might have been some moss-grown feudal castle, with a gleaming river at its gate. Ronald walked rapidly, and his breath came in quick, short jerks.
"What's gone wrong with you?" asked Forsyth, kindly.
"I don't know how to put it," said the soldier, after a long silence, "for I never was good at words; but,—well, you like Beatrice pretty well, don't you?"
"Yes, don't you?"
"She's my heart's desire," said Ronald, thickly.