When they returned to the deck all was comparatively quiet; the ladies were seated, and the gentlemen walking about in parties, examining the various groups of females which presented themselves to their view. Next to Adelaide was seated a very elegant woman, whom she heard addressed by the name of St. Orme, and whose husband was walking arm in arm with a remarkably handsome man, who united in his deportment the mien of a soldier, with the air of a man who had lived much in the world. His back was to Adelaide when he first attracted her notice, but when he came close to her, she started up, and met the hand he extended to her, with reciprocal cordiality, and their mutual astonishment, making them for an instant regardless of the presence of so numerous an audience, they addressed each other in the language they had long been accustomed to converse in, and, after a few hasty sentences of German, Adelaide, blushing to her fingers' ends, on perceiving she had attracted the attention of every person present, introduced the handsome stranger to Mrs. Sullivan as Colonel Desmond, and he was not a little surprised to find in her the widow of his most particular friend. This ceremony being over, Colonel Desmond again addressed Adelaide: "Good Heavens! Miss Wildenheim, who could have thought of seeing you _here_! how time does run on! I hope you don't forget what I remember with so much pleasure, that our acquaintance commenced before you were six years old; and that you used to seat yourself on my knee, with as little ceremony as that beautiful child is preparing to do on yours." Adelaide's dialogue with her new found friend was suddenly interrupted by Mrs. Sullivan becoming so qualmish, that a speedy retreat to her own cabin was judged advisable, and Colonel Desmond, after assisting the ladies to go down stairs, returned to the deck, his fair acquaintance remaining below to give her promised aid to her _chaperone_. Though Colonel Desmond was then in his forty-fifth year, his florid complexion, brilliant eye, and martial air, made him appear nearly ten years younger; nor were the few unwelcome gray hairs, that attempted to tell tales of other times, in contradiction to their darker companions, in sufficient number to counteract the appearance of youth, that the finest set of teeth in the world gave to his face. His forehead, eyes, and brows, seemed the seat of sense and manly daring, but all the kindly affections of human nature dwelt about his mouth. Adelaide had early applied to him the motto of the Chevalier Bayard--_L'homme sans peur et sans reproche_: and in the days of youthful enthusiasm, he had, in her scale of admiration, ranked next to her father--nor was he unworthy of her regard.