double
necklace of glass beads. With this physical improvement there also
seemed some moral awakening. She no longer stole nor lied. With the
possession of personal property came a respect for that of others. With
increased dependence on the word of those about her came a thoughtful
consideration of her own. Intellectually she was still feeble, although
she grappled sturdily with the simple lessons which Miss Portfire set
before her. But her zeal and simple vanity outran her discretion, and
she would often sit for hours with an open book before her, which she
could not read. She was a favorite with the officers at the fort, from
the Major, who shared his daughter's prejudices and often yielded to her
powerful self-will, to the subalterns, who liked her none the less that
their natural enemies, the frontier volunteers, had declared war
against her helpless sisterhood. The only restraint put upon her was the
limitation of her liberty to the enclosure of the fort and parade; and
only once did she break this parole, and was stopped by the sentry as
she stepped into a boat at the landing.

The recluse did not avail himself of Miss Portfire's invitation. But
after the departure of the Princess he spent less of his time in the
hut, and was more frequently seen in the distant marshes of Eel River
and on the upland hills. A feverish restlessness, quite opposed to his
usual phlegm, led him into singular freaks strangely inconsistent with
his usual habits and reputation. The purser of the occasional steamer
which stopped at Logport with the mails reported to have been boarded,
just inside the bar, by a strange bearded man, who asked for a newspaper
containing the last war telegrams. He tore his red shirt into narrow
strips, and spent two days with his needle over the pieces and the
tattered remnant of his only white garment; and a few days afterward
the fishermen on the bay were surprised to see what, on nearer approach,
proved to be a rude imitation of the national flag floating from a spar
above the hut.

One evening, as the fog began to drift over the sand-hills, the recluse
sat alone in his hut. The fire was dying unheeded on the hearth, for
he had been sitting there for a long time, completely absorbed in the
blurred pages of an old newspaper. Presently he arose, and, refolding
it,--an operation of great care and delicacy in its tattered
condition,--placed it under the blankets of his bed. He resumed his seat
by the fire, b