"Yes, sir."

"I might have given them to the Colonel--but I did not want to bother him. Whether I get well or not, I want this off my mind."

"All right, sir. I will have them forwarded by the very first chance.

You may depend upon that."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

The Captain pressed his hand and closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep.

The Sergeant, while he decided to carry out his instructions faithfully, thought it singular that so trifling a matter should occupy the attention of so sick a man.

"Well, I have something for you at last," said Miss Maxwell to her sister, one bright morning, several weeks earlier than the tragic events of the last chapter. She had just returned from the Citadel, and holding two letters high above her head, shook them gaily at Maud.

"I am so glad," returned that young lady, holding out her hand. "Who are they from? One from Mrs. Manning, I am sure."

"Who do you suppose the other is from? Which of your lovers has written you a letter?"

Handing over one she still held the other aloft.

"How foolish you are, Genie! This is the one I want to read first anyway."

Sitting down she broke the seal and commenced reading Mrs. Manning's letter, apparently unconscious that the other was waiting for perusal.

The letter was a long one, and Maud's face glowed with pleasure as her eyes ran rapidly over its pages. Parts of it she read aloud, and other parts to herself. By-and-bye, when she had finished, she put it back within its cover, and held out her hand for the other one.

This was from Dr. Beaumont, and a slight flush suffused her cheek as she perused its contents. Gravely she read it through to the end without speaking a word.

"Are you not going to read it to me?" Eugenia asked as she sat opposite, quietly watching her sister's face.

"You may read all of Mrs. Manning's letter and welcome," said Maud, "but this from Dr. Beaumont I must keep to myself, for the present at least"; and she slipped it into her pocket. "Was not Mrs. Manning brave?" she continued.

"Indeed she was. She tells all about the journey and the new settlement, and the trials she had to endure."

"Yes," said Maud, "but there's an undertone through it all--even in her account of that terrible march along the Madawaska."

Maud turned to the window and looked dreamily out, while unconsciously she took the Doctor's letter from her pocket again and tapped the sill with it, as if to keep time to her thoughts.

"Dr. Beaumont comes in for his share of praise," said Eugenia as she read on. "I don't see how they could have done without him."

"Would not Dr. Fairchilds have done as well?" Maud asked in a low voice.

"He did not get the chance," was Eugenia's quick response.

"I always had doubt as to the real reason of that," said Maud.

"Mrs. Manning says," continued Eugenia, "that she sent a letter a few days before this one by a man in a sailboat, round by Lake Huron, but that this would be sent through the woods by Little York. Did you get the first one?"

"No. Possibly it may not come at all, and if it does it will be later, as the way by Georgian Bay would be much longer than the overland route."

"Have you been studying geography lately?" Eugenia asked, drawing down the corners of her mouth.

"It is not long since I left school, Miss Inquisitive."

That afternoon they called upon Mrs. Mason, and as they expected, found her loquacious upon the subject of Penetang. She said that Sir John Sherbrooke and Colonel Mason had both received despatches from Sir George.

"I understand that you are a favored one, also," she continued good-humoredly, turning to Maud. "Two letters all for yourself from the little new garrison, while not another lady in Halifax has received one."

"All owing to my fortunate meeting with Mrs. Manning," returned Maud with a slight flush. "Nearly all the troops were fresh from England, so their letters would naturally be sent home instead of here. Mrs.

Manning's letter is very interesting. I brought it over for you to see."

"Thank you, and may I read it to Colonel Mason?"

"Certain parts, but not all. You will know what I mean."

"I'll take care, my dear. Trust me for that--but was there not another letter?--ah, ah, my lady--but I will ask no more questions"; and Mrs.

Mason, with twinkling eyes, laughed softly to herself.

"Did not a ship come in to-day?" Eugenia asked.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Mason, "with another regiment. The Colonel says it is imperative for it to leave at once for Montreal as the war is not over yet, and it has important letters to carry."

"When will it sail, or did you hear?" Maud asked.

"To-morrow, I believe."

Maud's candle burned late that night again, and when the ship left for Montreal the next evening the mail bag contained two letters for Penetang, one to Mrs. Manning, the other to Dr. Beaumont.

More than a month pa.s.sed away. The fortunes of war had been ebbing and flowing first on one side, then on the other--the belligerents on neither being as yet satisfied. Still the conflict was nearing the end.

News travelled slowly then; but word of battle, even when three weeks old, was just as interesting as it is now when the happening was only yesterday.

The news of Lundy's Lane had arrived. The Citadel and all Halifax were excited over it, for although the British claimed the victory, yet two of the companies that had served in the fort for years, had been in the heat of the fight, and had lost more than half their men.

In small garrison towns, stationary troops soon become identified with the people, and the results of battle fill them with intense interest.

Having once heard the rumour of the conflict, the people were anxious to hear more, and soldiers off duty were asked repeatedly for the latest details. At every street corner the battle was discussed; while in the homes it was the one absorbing theme.

With the news also came that letter to Maud forwarded by the Sergeant, but as already noted, written before the conflict.

"Captain Morris' name is in everybody's mouth," said Judge Maxwell to his daughters that evening. "The people are wild over him. They say he is one of the bravest officers in the service. What a pity he was so nearly killed!"

"Nearly killed! Is it so bad as that, father?" Maud asked with trembling voice.

"The news is three weeks old, and we cannot tell what may have happened in that time, but he was shot in the scalp and bayonetted in the body and the leg. What is more, he was leading what remained of his men for the third time, and struck down his opponent with his sword the very moment that he fell. If that is not bravery you will have to search the pages of history to find it."

Maud's eyes flashed, and she shot into her father's face a look of mingled exultation and anguish.

"But his wounds, father, are they dangerous?"

"Colonel Mason says, from the despatches, that he would not antic.i.p.ate serious trouble from one of them by itself--but from the whole combined, particularly with midsummer heat, there might be. Still, without doubt, all will be done for him that is possible."