"Of course," answered Robert, promptly. "If we were all asleep, no one would hear the gun and we might all be taken prisoners before we had a chance to get to the Fort." "Have you always watched out here?" "Yes, a part of the night, ever since we knew war had been declared." "It's lonely, isn't it?" "It might be, but I always have something pleasant to think about." Beatrice did not press the question further. "What time does the first watch end?" "Oh, along about midnight." "I'll stay with you," said the girl impulsively; "I had a long sleep this afternoon, and I'd love to help watch. May I?" Robert's heart beat loudly, but he controlled his voice. "Of course you may," he said. When Ronald's task was finished, he led Queen into the Fort. "Twenty-four," mused Beatrice. "He's skipped one, or else I didn't count right." "Twenty-four?" repeated Robert, inquiringly. "Yes," she said. "He had to take Queen around twenty-five times because he was bad this morning and tried to make me think I'd eaten Major. I don't like things like that." Robert laughed happily and felt an inexplicable generosity toward Ronald. "You didn't count right," he assured her. "He never would skip." "Perhaps not--anyhow, I'll let it go." * * * * * The hours passed as if on wings, and both were surprised when the deep-toned bell at the Fort tolled taps. The moon rose and a path of gold gleamed on the water, rippling gently with the night wind. "See," said Beatrice, softly, "it's always seemed to me as if one might row along that path, when the moon is low, and go straight in. When I was a child I used to think that I'd do it as soon as I got old enough to manage a boat by myself. I wondered why nobody ever went to the moon when it was so close, and I thought it would be a fine thing if I could be the first one to go. I couldn't see any doors, and concluded they must be on the other side; but I was sure I could row around when I got there, and I never doubted for an instant that the moon people would be delighted to see me. What strange fancies children have!" "You're only a child now," said Robert, huskily,--"a little, helpless child." "Helpless?" repeated Beatrice, with an odd little cadence at the end of the rising inflection; "I've never been told that before. See how strong my hands are!" Laughing, she offered a small, white, dimpled hand for his inspection. With an inarticulate cry he bent to kiss it, and she snatched it away, much offended. "You presume," she said, coldly. "Perhaps you think I'm like other girls!"