As his daughter and I talked more, the colonel talked less. Seen in the light of the morning, his face looked rather worn, and once when he threw his yet thick white hair back with his hand I noticed the scar of a deep wound across his head. I began to feel sympathy for him without knowing exactly why. He rose presently and excused himself, saying it was time to give his men some directions for the day. Miss Hetherill and I dawdled a little over the coffee-cups, and I took the opportunity to thank her for her intercession with her father in my favor. She did not make light of my thanks or of her act, and her manner appeared to indicate a belief on her part that I had been in real danger; which, however, I had not been able to persuade myself was so, nor could I yet. She asked me if I would look through the house,--I noticed she did not call it fort, and I consented with gladness, saying I would be pleased to go anywhere with so fair a guide, which she accepted with the carelessness of one who had heard the like before. She took me into a room she called the great parlor, and a noble room it was, too, though here, as elsewhere, the atmosphere was distinctly military. It was full thirty feet square, with a vaulted ceiling of polished oak. Furs were on the floor and arms on the wall, repeating rifles, revolvers, bayonets, swords in much variety. "It is my father's chief delight to polish these and to see that they are in perfect order," she said. "Miss Hetherill," I said, speaking suddenly from impulse, "why does your father cherish this delusion? Why does he not go and live among his kind?" I regretted instantly that I had spoken so, for she turned upon me with a sudden flash of anger. "Delusion, sir?" she exclaimed. "You forget yourself. It is the most real thing in the world to him. Be careful how you make use of such expressions here. I advise you also not to forget that you are still my father's prisoner." She spoke with so much earnestness that I was impressed, more from fear that I had wounded her feelings than from fear for myself. I felt confident yet that it was the year 1896; and that all the world was at peace, barring the little wars of England, which don't count. She took me no further than the great parlor--or the armory, if its fit name be applied. My unfortunate question seemed to make some change in her intentions, and she suggested that we walk outside on the terrace.