“Yes, please; and, Morgan—once more, I thank you. God bless you!” and the door closed.
CHAPTER XVI.
PASSING THE FORT.
It was not very strange that while under the spell of Hildegarde’s presence I should forget all about my poor, banged head; when a fellow’s heart is thumping tumultuously against his ribs, as though laboring under an attack of fever, he cannot be expected to remember such trifles as a few bruises.
Of one thing I had suddenly become firmly convinced, and it gave me a spasm of joy such as had been a stranger to me for two long years.
She loved me still; Hildegarde loved me in spite of all that had passed, of my desertion, and the long interval of silence that had elapsed.
What, though there were obstacles, surely they could be hurled aside. I felt just then as though I might defy the world, if need be, since my claim was founded on justice; she had been in the past, and, if Heaven were kind, might once more be my Hildegarde.
So it was in almost a merry frame of mind I made my way out of the cabin again.
My spirits were lighter than they had been these many moons; much remained to be explained, and difficulties to be overcome, but oh, the ecstasy of believing that the old love still burned within her heart.
Once on deck, I looked for the girl.