thority of a commanding officer. But once he is
out of the fort I shall be in command."

Another non-commissioned officer entered. It was Weston, who, that
morning, had been promoted to the dignity of lance corporal, and
the commanding officer's immediate orderly.

"Lieutenant Elmsley, the captain desires me to say that he is
waiting for you and Mr. Ronayne to accompany the doctor and himself
to the council."

"Then," said the subaltern addressed, "you will give my compliments,
Weston, to Captain Headley, and say to him that both Mr. Ronayne
and myself decline attending that council--that we do not think it
prudent to leave the fort without an officer, and that we conceive
that having given our opinions on the matter for which the council
is called, we can be of much more service here than there. Now
mind, Weston, you will deliver this message respectfully, and in
a manner befitting a soldier to his superior."

"Certainly, sir," replied the corporal, as he touched his, cap and
withdrew.

"You will have a visit from himself next, Elmsley," remarked his
wife. "But why refuse to attend the council? There is no enemy
near us, and surely half an hour's absence on the glacis cannot
much endanger the safety of the garrison, surrounded as we are by
friendly Indians."

"Margaret, my love," said her husband, taking her hand affectionately,
"we must trust nothing to chance. No one can tell what may not
occur in the interim of our absence. Who, for instance, could have
foretold yesterday morning that we should be as we are to-day!"

"True," said Ronayne, as he paced the room with sudden and bitter
excitement; "who could have told yesterday that we should be
as we are to-day? There is nothing certain in life--no, nothing--all
is vanity."

This painful change of feeling and of manner, from the self-control
so recently imposed upon himself, had not been without its cause.
The tenderness of his friends brought back to his memory the
recollection of many an hour of happiness passed in that room--when
the same manifestations of affection had been exhibited in presence
of the wife. But where was she now--where was his own share in that
happiness which, for the first time, he almost half envied in his
friend?

The door was again opened, and in walked not Captain Headley but
Mr. McKenzie; his brow was overcast, and there was evidently deep
care on his mind; but after tenderly embracing his daughter, he
remarked to the officers