“That I’ll not,” acceded the major, heartily.  “Ah, Janice,” he cried, unable to contain himself even before the baron, “if you knew the thrill your words give me.  Are you truly glad to see me?”

“Yes, Phil, or I would not say so,” answered the girl, ingenuously.

Lord Clowes, a scowl on his face, turned from the two, to avoid sight of Hennion’s look of gladness.  This brought him gazing seaward, and he gave an exclamation.  “Ho!  What ’s here?”

The two faced about at his question, to see, just appearing from behind the curve of the land to the southward, a full-rigged ship, one mass of canvas from deck to spintle-heads, and with a single row of ports which bespoke the man-of-war.

“’T is a frigate,” announced Clowes, “and no doubt sent to convoy the transports we have been awaiting.  Yes; there comes another.  ’T is the fleet, beyond question,” he continued, as the first vessel having opened from the land, the bowsprit of a second began to appear.

The three stood silent as the two ships towering pyramids of sails, making them marvels of beauty, swept onward with slow dignity across the mouth of the York River, at this point nearly three miles wide, toward the Gloucester shore.  Before they had gone a quarter of a mile, a third and larger vessel came sweeping into view, her two rows of ports showing her to be a line-of-battle ship.  Barely was she clear of the land when a string of small flags broke out from her mizzen rigging, and almost as if by magic, the yard arms of all three vessels were alive with men, and royals, top gallants, and mainsails with machine-like precision were dewed up and furled, and each ship, stripped of all but its topsails, rounded to, with its head to the wind.

“That is a strange manoeuvre,” remarked Philemon.  “Why stop they outside, instead of sailing up the river?”

“They’ve hove to, no doubt, to wait a pilot, being strangers to the waters,” surmised Clowes, wheeling and looking up the river townwards.  “Ay, there goes some signal from the ‘Charon’s’ truck,” he went on, as the British frigate anchored off the town displayed three flags at her masthead.

Janice, thankful for the diversion the arrivals had caused, said something to Philemon in a low voice, and they set out toward the town.  Not noticing the obvious attempt to escape from his society, or to outward appearance perturbed, the baron put himself alongside the two, and walked with them until the custom-house was reached.

“Will you come in, Philemon, and see dadda and mommy?” questioned the girl, as the three halted at the doorway.

As she spoke, an orderly, who a moment before had come out of headquarters, made towards the major, and, saluting, said, “Colonel Tarleton directs that you report at headquarters without delay, sir.”

“My answer is made for me, Janice,” sighed Philemon.  “I fear me ’t is some vidette duty, and that once again we are doomed to part, just as I thought my hour had come.  Many more of such disappointments will turn me from a soldier into a Quaker.  However, ’t is possible his Lordship wants but to put some questions, and, if so, I’ll be with you shortly.”  He crossed the street and entered the Nelson house.