For a few moments still he stood quite alone on the forward deck. How fast the little steamer parted the blue waters that lay between him and his new life! Hilltops to the north, hilltops to the south, Anthony's Nose cutting the river off on the one hand, Martlaer's Rock--the old "East Point" of the maps--closing it in on the other. Before him, West Point, "Tacs," and orders; behind him, the road by which he had come from home. Then the swing-door slammed, and a bevy of girls came rushing out to the front of the boat. Magnus turned to look at them, then instinctively took a stand further back, where he could gaze less visibly. Certainly he had seen girls enough to know the genus, but these were a new species. Such hats, such heels, such giggles, such bewildering dresses. Such knots of riband, such spots of velvet, such piles of artificial flowers, such very pretty faces. Not handsome, like Cherry, Magnus said indignantly, calling himself to order; and then began to wonder how Cherry would look dressed _so_. And even as the thought came, he heard one whisper to the other, "A candidate." And Magnus felt unreasonably angry. What business had they to pick him out? And how was he a marked man, anyway? But their notice of him was short. "Look at Jenny!" giggled one, half under her breath, pointing to a girl who leaned on the railing, and never took her eyes from the West Point shore. "He isn't on the watch, sweet child: it's one o'clock, and they're all in the Mess Hall. Don't send such wistful looks on ahead, or they'll mount the hill and spoil his digestion." And she half whistled, half sang: "Come fill up your glasses, and don't stand back; Vive la compagnie! And drink to the health of our Captain Jack----" "You don't call him plain 'Jack' yet, do you, dear?" "If you _could_ talk a little sense!" murmured the girl at the railing. "I shall never call him '_plain_' anything." The girls choked with laughter, which half rippled out, and half was smothered. Then the talk went on, in the same undertones; not as if it was meant to be heard, and yet which Magnus could not help hearing. "She's such a Paul Pry! Said to me the other day when we were out walking, 'But you are not in love with any one of the class?' I said, 'No; I'm in love with the whole class.' Oh, dear! it will be too dreadful when they all go!" "There are always candidates," whispered another, with a glance towards Magnus, and then the boat touched her landing, and the girls hurried on shore.