Cully submitted, though with an ill grace, to what was plainly a case of necessity; but he turned, before crossing the threshold, and said to Penrose,-- "I take everybody to witness, Sir, that I prohibit your having anything further to do with my sister. The consequences be on your own head, if you disobey." "And I, Captain Penrose," said Dinwiddie, "take everybody to witness, that, if, after having paid the court that you have to my daughter, you now refuse to take her as your wife, the consequences, Sir, must be on your own head." "Sir," said the Captain, "that is the most agreeable threat that I can imagine. I have already committed myself to your daughter." "Ah! disgraceful!" groaned Mrs. Dinwiddie. "What do you say to that, Cully?" said the father, as, with no very gentle thrust, he replaced the glazed hat on the youth's head. Cully kept silent. The recollection of certain debts which could be paid only from the paternal purse inspired a prudent reserve. "Take him now," said Dinwiddie to the officers; "give him as much gingerbread as he wants, and charge it to me." Cully and the officers disappeared. "And now," resumed Dinwiddie, "it is time for me to drive to the cars. Mrs. Dinwiddie, this is Captain Penrose, your future son-in-law. Treat him kindly in my absence. Farewell." The lady bowed not ungraciously, as Dinwiddie departed. She had been meditating, during the last minute, a new flank movement in favor of Colonel Pegram. She determined to change her base of operations. Barbara was amazed, but, in her inexperience, was wholly unsuspicious of strategy. "Captain Penrose, you'll stop and take tea with us?" said the wily lady of the house. "I shall be charmed to," replied the Captain. "Mother, let me kiss you!" cried the innocent Barbara, delighted at what seemed the vanishing of the only obstacle to the betrothal of herself and the Yankee officer. There was an ambush in preparation, of which these two did not dream. IV. Two days afterwards, Barbara and her mother were on their way to Montreal. This was the flank movement, and it was thus accomplished. The second morning after her husband's departure, Mrs. Dinwiddie burst into Barbara's apartment with the intelligence that she had just received a telegraphic dispatch from Mr. Dinwiddie, bidding her start at once for Montreal to procure certain funds in the hands of a certain party there, which funds were immediately wanted. Barbara, to whom all business matters were mysteries profound as the income-tax or the national debt, received it all without a question. She did not stop to ask, "Why doesn't father send one of his clerks?" or "Why can't he do it all by letter?" She took it for granted that there was a great hurry about something that required an instant journey to Montreal. So she wrote a letter to Captain Penrose, (which Mrs. Dinwiddie took good care to intercept,) and, before another hour had slipped by, mother and daughter were at the Northern railway station.