The cousins of Gerald Grantham had been in error in supposing him to be the officer in command of the vessel on board which the lover of Julia had embarked. His transfer from the gun-boat had taken place, but in consideration of the fatigue he had undergone during the three successive days in which he had been employed at the batteries, the Commodore had directed another officer to take command of the vessel in question, and charge himself with the custody of the prisoners on board. Finding himself at liberty until the return of the flotilla from this duty, the first care of Gerald was to establish himself in lodgings in Detroit, whence he daily sallied forth to the apartments in the Governor's house occupied by the unfortunate Major Montgomerie, in whose situation he felt an interest so much the more deep and lively as he knew his confinement to have been in some degree the work of his own hands. All the attention and kindness could effect was experienced by the respectable Major, who, in return, found himself more and more attached to his youthful and generous captor. These constant visits to the uncle naturally brought our hero more immediately into the society of the niece, but although he had never been able to banish from his memory the recollection of one look which she had bestowed upon him on a former occasion, in almost every interview of the sort _now_, she preserved the same cold distance and reserve which was peculiar to her. A week had elapsed in this manner, when it chanced that as they both sat one evening, about dusk, near the couch of the invalid, the latter, after complaining of extreme weakness and unusual suffering, expressed his anxiety at the possibility of his niece being left alone and unprotected in a strange country. It was with a beating pulse and a glowing cheek that Gerald looked up to observe the effect of this observation on his companion. He was surprised, nay, hurt, to remark that an expression of almost contemptuous loathing sat upon her pale but beautiful countenance. He closed his eyes for a moment in bitterness of disappointment--and when they again opened and fell upon that countenance, he scarcely could believe the evidence of his senses. Every feature had undergone a change. With her face half turned, as if to avoid the observation of her uncle, she now exhibited a cheek flushed with the expression of passionate excitement, while from her eye beamed that same unfathomable expression which had carried intoxication once before to the inmost soul of the youth. Almost wild with his feelings, it was with difficulty he restrained the impulse that would have urged him to her feet; but even while he hesitated, her countenance had again undergone a change, and she sat cold and reserved and colorless as before.