The early morning sun, slanting in through a small window, found Major
Studholme seated at his table lost in deep thought. The letter Dane
had brought was lying open before him. Occasionally he glanced toward
it, and each time his brow knitted in perplexity. At length he rose
and paced rapidly up and down the room. With the exception of the
table and a few stools this office was destitute of any furniture. It
was as bleak as the hill upon which Fort Howe was situated. Here the
men of the garrison received their orders, and it was here that the
Major interviewed visitors from Portland Point, and couriers from all
sections of the country. This commanding officer was the same to all
men, so the humblest workman in the trading company's employ, or the
uncouth native from the heart of the wilderness received just as much
attention as men of high rank. Stern and unbending in the line of
duty, Major Studholme realised the importance of his position, and that
as a superior officer in the service of his King he must render
even-handed justice, irrespective of color or rank. A sharp
rat-tat-tat upon the door startled him.

"Come in," he called.

At once the door swung open, and a stalwart, sturdy man entered,
carrying a stout stick in his hand which he used as a cane.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Simonds," the Major accosted, his face
brightening with pleasure and relief as he held out his hand. "I
didn't expect you so early."

"Umph! this is not early," the visitor replied. "It seems late to me.
Why, I've been up all night. Not a wink of sleep have I had. But,
say, I've something here that'll refresh us both."