what vague rumour, coupled with the fact of the continued
absence of the schooner, afforded. That the vessel
had been captured by the enemy there could be no doubt;
but, knowing as he did, the gallant spirit of Gerald,
there was reason to imagine that he had not yielded
to his enemies, before every means of resistance had
been exhausted: and, if so, what might not have
been the effect of his obstinacy (if such a term could
be applied to unshaken intrepidity,) on men exasperated
by opposition, and eager for revenge. In the
outset he had admitted his gentle cousin Gertrude
to his confidence, as one most suited, by her docility,
to soothe without appearing to remark on his alarm,
but when, little suspecting the true motive of her
agitation, he saw her evince an emotion surpassing
his own, and admitting and giving way to fears beyond
any he would openly avow, he grew impatient and disappointed,
and preferring rather to hear the tocsin of alarm
sounded from his own heart than from the lips of another,
he suddenly, and much to the surprise of the affectionate
girl, discontinued all allusion to the subject.
But Henry’s anxiety was not the less poignant
from being confined within his own breast, and although
it gratified him to find that flattering mention was
frequently made of his brother at the mess-table,
coupled with regret for his absence, it was reserved
for his hours of privacy and abstraction to dwell
upon the fears which daily became more harrassing
and perplexing.
On the present occasion, even while his brother officers
had thought nor ear but for the terrible tempest that
raged without, and at one moment threatened to bury
them beneath the trembling roof, the mind of Henry
was full of his absent brother, whom, more than ever,
he now seemed to regret, from the association of the
howling tempest with the wild element on which he
had last beheld him; and so complete at length had
become the ascendancy of his melancholy, that when
the storm had been in some degree stilled, and the
rain abated, he look an early leave of his companions,
with a view to indulge in privacy the gloomy feelings
by which be felt himself oppressed.
In passing through the gate of the Fort, on his way
into the town, his attention was arrested by several
groups of persons, consisting of soldiers, Indians,
and inhabitants, who, notwithstanding the inclemency
of the hour, were gathered on the high bank in front
of the demi-lune battery, eagerly bending their gaze
upon the riser. Half curious to know what could
have attracted them in such weather from shelter,
Henry advanced and mingled in the crowd, which gave
way at his approach. Although the fury of the
tempest had spent itself, there was still wind enough
to render it a matter of necessary precaution that
the bystanders should secure a firm footing on the
bank, while the water, violently agitated and covered
with foam, resembled rather a pigmy sea than an inland
river—so unusual and so vast were its waves.