Magnus did not hurry. He had no quarters to spend on omnibus fare, and no mind at all to be wedged in among those lively ladies. He picked up his bag and walked after the stage as it slowly climbed the hill. A few swift strides would have easily taken him beyond it. But he lingered and loitered, sat down on the tall stone curbing of the road, and tried to find out why he felt so uncomfortable. What if he was a "candidate"? There was Cherry, and the other two girls at home, on tiptoe over that very fact. Why should West Point feel so differently? He had come to learn to serve and to defend his country; to grace her ranks, wherever he might be. Magnus looked after his stageful of enemies, and seeing that they had turned down towards the south, he quickened his steps, and soon reached the top of the hill. There paused again, partly for strangeness, and partly for wonder. It was all so beautiful, so new. The grass, close shaven and vividly green, covered the ground on every side; up the slopes, and down in the hollows; with only the cavalry plain lying brown and bare in the sunshine. Buildings, with hardly two alike, were dropped down for the most part in a long, curving line, the end of which he could not see. No people, anywhere, for it was dinner time or lunch time all over the Post; only as Magnus crossed the road to get a nearer view of the buildings, he came upon a very distinguished personage with a gun on his shoulder, pacing aimlessly up and down the sidewalk. His uniform was blue, his "deportment" fierce. "He must be an officer," thought the boy to himself, "and this some special important point he must watch." Magnus found a seat under a friendly tree, and studied him. That slow, ceaseless, back-and-forth march, fascinated the quicksilver youngster. Orioles whistled over his head, sparrows sang, catbirds cried out in fear or shouted for joy. Further off was the whistle and roar of trains, and the bell of the ferryboat. In every pause the breeze rustled softly by, and the river plashed against the shore. He had never seen anything so lovely in all his life. But now, where were all those voices?--a mild roar of talk. Plainly, in that small grey stone castle just over the way. He strolled on again, passed the old Academic, and came out upon the plain. And then for a while he forgot everything but what his eyes took in.