He rose, nodding to me, and I followed him to the door.

“Now,” he said, “you know what you are to do.”

“When shall I set out, sir?” I asked.

He smiled, saying, “I shall give you no instructions, Captain Ormond; I shall only concern myself with results.”

“May I take with me whom I please?”

“Certainly, sir.”

I looked at Mount, who had been standing motionless by the door, an attentive spectator.

“I will take the rifleman Mount,” I said, “unless he is detailed for other service—­”

“Take him, Mr. Ormond.  When do you wish to start?  I ask it because there is a gentleman at Broadalbin who has news for you, and you must pass that way.”

“May I ask who that is?” I inquired, respectfully.

“The gentleman is Sir George Covert, captain on my personal staff, and now under your orders.”

“I shall set out to-night, sir,” I said, abruptly; then stepped back to let him pass me into the hallway beyond.

“Saddle my mare and make every preparation,” I said to Mount.  “When you are ready lead the horses to the stockade gate....  How long will you take?”

“An hour, sir, for rubbing down, saddling, and packing fodder, ammunition, and provisions.”

“Very well,” I said, soberly, and walked out to the long drawing-room, where the company had taken chairs and were all whispering and watching a green baize curtain which somebody had hung across the farther end of the room.

“Charades and pictures,” whispered Cecile, at my elbow.  “I guessed two, and Mr. Clavarack says it was wonderful.”

“It certainly was,” I said, gravely.  “Where is Ruyven?  Oh, sitting with Miss Haldimand?  Cecile, would you ask Miss Haldimand’s indulgence for a few moments?  I must speak to Sir Lupus and to you and Ruyven.”

I stepped back of the rows of chairs to where Sir Lupus sat in his great arm-chair by the doorway; and in another moment Cecile and Ruyven came up, the latter polite but scarcely pleased to be torn away from his first inamorata.

“Sir Lupus, and you, Cecile and Ruyven,” I said, in a low voice, “I am going on a little journey, and shall be absent for a few days, perhaps longer.  I wish to take this opportunity to say good-bye, and to thank you all for your great kindness to me.”

“Where the devil are you going?” snapped Sir Lupus.

“I am not at liberty to say, sir; perhaps General Schuyler may tell you.”

The patroon looked up at me sorrowfully.  “George!  George!” he said, “has it touched us already?”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered.

“What?” whispered Cecile.

“Father means the war.  Our cousin Ormond is going to the war,” exclaimed Ruyven, softly.

There was a pause; then Cecile flung both arms around my neck and kissed me in choking silence.  The patroon’s great, fat hand sought mine and held it; Ruyven placed his arm about my shoulder.  Never had I imagined that I could love these kinsmen of mine so dearly.