Elsie Yachting with the Raymonds

But the roll of the drums began again, now playing "Pease upon a Trencher;" again the ranks were formed, rolls called; the sergeants marched their companies to the colour line, officers took their stations; first captain ordered attention, swung the battalion into column of platoons to the left, ordered "Forward, guide right, march!" and away they went, to the stirring music of the fifes and drums, away across the plain till the main road was reached, down the shaded lane between the old "Academic" and the chapel, past the new quarters, and the grassy terrace beyond. Then each platoon wheeled in succession to the right, mounted the broad stone steps, and disappeared beneath the portals of the mess hall.

Our party, who had followed at so slight a distance as to be able to keep the cadets in sight to the door of entrance, did not attempt to look in upon them at their meal, but hurried on to the hotel to give attention to their own breakfasts, – the keen morning air and the exercise of walking having bestowed upon each one an excellent appetite.

Max and Lulu were very eager to "get back in time to see everything," as they expressed it, so began eating in great haste.

Their father gently admonished them to be more deliberate.

"You must not forget," he said, "that food must be thoroughly masticated in order to digest properly; and those who indulge in eating at such a rapid rate will be very likely soon to suffer from indigestion."

"And we may as well take our time," added Mr. Keith, "for it will be an hour or more before anything of special interest will be going on among the cadets."

"What do they do next, sir?" asked Max.

"Morning drill, which is not very interesting, comes next; then the tents are put in order."

"That must take a good while," remarked Lulu.

"From three to five minutes, perhaps."

"Oh!" she cried in surprise; "how can they do it so quickly? I'm sure I couldn't put my room at home in good order in less than ten minutes."

"But, then, you're not a boy, you know," laughed Max.

"I'm quite as smart as if I were," she returned promptly. "Isn't that so, Papa?"

"I have known some boys who were not particularly bright," he answered, with an amused look. "Perhaps you might compare quite favourably with them."

"Oh, Papa!" she exclaimed; "is that the best you can say about me?"

"I can say that my daughter seems to me to have as much brain as my son, and of as good quality," he replied kindly, refilling her plate as he spoke; "and I very much doubt his ability to put a room in order more rapidly than she can, and at the same time equally well," he concluded.

"Well, it's a sort of womanish work anyhow, – isn't it, Papa?" queried Max, giving Lulu another laughing look.

"I don't see it so," replied his father. "I would be sorry to admit, or to think, that women have a monopoly of the good qualities of order and cleanliness."

"I, too, sir," said Max; "and I'm quite resolved to do my father credit in that line as well as others, at the academy and elsewhere."

"Are we going at once, Papa?" Lulu asked as they left the table.

"No; but probably in ten or fifteen minutes. Can you wait so long as that?" he asked, with a humorous smile, and softly smoothing her hair as she stood by his side.

"Oh, yes, sir!" she answered brightly. "I hope I'm not quite so impatient as I used to be; and I feel quite sure you'll not let Max or me miss anything very interesting or important."

"Not if I can well help it, daughter," he said. "I want you and Max to see and hear all that I think will be instructive, or give you pleasure."

A few moments later they set out; and they had just reached the grove up by the guard-tents, and seated themselves comfortably, when the drum tapped for morning parade, and the cadets were seen issuing from their tents, buttoned to the throat in faultlessly fitting uniforms, their collars, cuffs, gloves, belts, and trousers of spotless white, their rifles, and every bit of metal about them gleaming with polish.

"How fine the fellows do look, Lu!" remarked Max, in an undertone.

"Yes," she replied; "they couldn't be neater if they were girls."

"No, I should think not," he returned, with a laugh. "Oh, see! yonder comes the band. Now we'll soon have some music."

"And there come some officers," said Lulu; and as she spoke the sentry on No. 1 rattled his piece, with a shout that re-echoed from the hills, "Turn out the guard, Commandant of Cadets!" and instantly the members of the guard were seen hastily to snatch their rifles from the racks, form ranks, and present arms.

"Oh, Maxie, isn't that fine!" whispered Lulu, ecstatically. "Wouldn't you like to be that officer?"

"I'd ten times rather be captain of a good ship," returned Max.

"I believe I'd rather be in the navy, too, if I were a boy," she said; "but I'd like the army next best."

"Yes, so would I."

But the drum again tapped sharply, the cadets in each street resolved themselves into two long parallel lines, elbow to elbow, and at the last tap faced suddenly outward, while the glistening rifles sprang up to "support arms;" every first sergeant called off his roll, every man as he answered to his name snapping down his piece to the "carry" and "order."

That done, the sergeant faced his captain, saluting in soldierly fashion, and took his post; the captain whipped out his shining sword; the lieutenants stepped to their posts.

"This is the morning inspection," Mr. Keith said in reply to an inquiring look from Max and Lulu.

"Are they very particular, sir?" queried Max.

"Very; should a speck of rust be found on a cadet's rifle, a single button missing from his clothing, or unfastened, a spot on his trousers, a rip or tear in his gloves, or dust on his shoes, it is likely to be noted on the company delinquency-book to-day, and published to the battalion to-morrow evening."

"I wonder if they're as strict and hard on a fellow as that at Annapolis," thought Max to himself. "I mean to ask Papa about it."

The inspection was soon over.

"Now," said Mr. Keith, "there'll be a moment's breathing spell, then more music by the band while the cadets go through some of their exercises, which I think you will find well worth looking at."

They did enjoy it extremely, – the music, the manœuvres of the cadets under the orders now of the adjutant, and again of the officer in command.

There followed a half-hour of rest, in which Mr. Keith introduced his friend, Captain Raymond, to some of the other officers, and they all had a little chat together.

But as the clock struck nine the cadets were again in ranks.

"What are they going to do now, Mr. Keith?" asked Lulu.

"This is the hour for battery drill," was the reply.

"Ah, I'm glad we're going to see that!" said Max. "I'd rather see it than anything else."

"The cadets are dividing and going in different directions," said Lulu. "Some of them seem to be going down by the river."

"Yes; some members of the senior class. They are going to what is called the 'sea-coast battery' at the water's edge, and presently you will hear the thunder of great guns coming from there."

"Oh, can we go and look at them?" asked Lulu, excitedly. "May we, Papa?" turning to him.

"I think we shall have a finer sight up here," he replied. "Am I not right, Mr. Keith?"

"Yes; I think we would better remain where we are. I would like you to see what daring horsemen these youngsters are. See yonder are the seniors in riding-dress, with gauntlets and cavalry sabres. Watch how easily they mount, and how perfectly at home they are upon their steeds."

With intense interest and no little excitement Max and Lulu watched and listened to all that followed, – the rapid movements of column, line, and battery, the flash of sabres, the belching of flame and smoke, accompanied by the thundering roar of the great guns, the stirring bugle blasts, the rearing of the horses when brought to a sudden halt. Even the gentlemen showed unmistakable symptoms of interest and excitement.

The hour of battery drill passed very quickly. When it was over the Captain called a carriage, and he, Mr. Keith, Max, and Lulu drove from one point of interest to another, occupying in this way the time till the hour for the boat from Albany to touch at the point. They took passage on it to New York City, where they left it to board a Sound steamer, – a few hours' journey in which would take them to that part of the sea-coast of Rhode Island which had been selected as the summer resort of the family connection.

CHAPTER V

Early the next morning our party landed at Newport, where they took a carriage for their sea-side home. It was early when they arrived, but they found everybody up, and ready with a joyful welcome, in both that house and the next two, occupied by the Dinsmores, Travillas, and Lelands. The delight of all the Raymonds, from the Captain down to the baby boy, was a pretty thing to see.

The occupants of the other cottages were present, and rejoiced with them; and from one and all Cousin Donald received a very warm welcome. They were evidently much pleased to see him, and soon made him feel quite at home among them.

They all sat down to breakfast together, almost immediately upon the arrival of the travellers, and lingered over the table in pleasant chat, talking of what had occurred to one and another during the absence of the Captain, Max, and Lulu, questioning Cousin Donald in regard to loved ones more nearly related to him than to themselves, and laying plans for his and their own entertainment during his stay among them.

"I hope," remarked the Captain, "that some naval vessel will come within reach, so that we may have a chance to visit her in your company, Donald."

"Thank you; I would greatly enjoy so doing," Donald answered. "I suppose a visit from such a vessel is by no means rare in these parts at this time of year."

"No," the Captain replied, glancing through a window looking upon the sea, as he spoke. "Why, there is one in plain view at this moment!" he cried, starting to his feet.

They all hastily left the table and gathered upon a porch which gave them a good view of the sea and the man-of-war, hardly a mile away.

"My spy-glass, Max, my son," the Captain said.

"Here, Papa," answered Max, putting it into his father's hand. "I knew it would be wanted."

"Good boy," returned the Captain. "Ah, yes," looking through the glass, "just as I thought. It is the 'Wanita,' Captain Wade, an old friend of mine; we were boys together in the Naval Academy." His face shone with pleasure as he spoke. "We must visit her," he added, passing the glass to Donald.

Max and Lulu exchanged glances of delight, – Papa was so kind and indulgent they were almost sure he would take them along if he knew they wished to go.

"Not to-day, Levis? I am sure you must be too much fatigued with your long journey," Violet said, with a look into her husband's eyes that seemed to add, "I could not be content to part from you for an hour just yet."

His answering look was as fond as her own.

"No, dearest," he said, low and tenderly, "nor do I intend to go at all without my little wife, unless she absolutely refuses to accompany me; we will stay quietly at home to-day, if you wish, and perhaps visit the 'Wanita' to-morrow."

It was a bit of private chat, the others being quite engrossed with the 'Wanita,' taking turns in gazing upon her through the glass.

The next moment Lulu was by her father's side, asking in eager beseeching tones, "Papa, if you go on board that war vessel won't you take Max and me with you?"

"I think it highly probable, in case you should both wish to go," he said, smiling at the look of entreaty in her face and its sudden change to one of extreme delight as she heard his reply.

"Oh, Papa, thank you ever so much!" she cried, fairly dancing with delight. "There's nothing I'd like better; and I hope we can all go."

"You would enjoy it, my dear?" asked the Captain, turning to his wife.

"I would enjoy going anywhere with you, Levis; and your company is particularly desirable on a man-of-war," Violet answered with a happy laugh.

"Thank you," he returned, with a bow and smile. "We must have them – Wade and his officers – here too. It will be a pleasure to entertain them."

"Oh, Papa, how delightful!" cried Lulu, clapping her hands.

"Ah, my child, let me advise you not to be too much elated," laughed her father; "they may have or receive orders to leave this port for some other before our plan can be carried out."

"What plan is it?" "To what do you refer, Captain?" asked several voices; for nearly every one had now taken a look at the man-of-war, and was ready to give attention to something else.

The Captain explained.

"Oh, how delightful!" exclaimed Zoe. "Will it be a dinner, tea, or evening party, Captain?"

"That question remains open to discussion, Sister Zoe," he returned, with a twinkle of fun in his eye. "What would you advise?"

"Oh," she said laughingly, "I am not prepared to answer that question yet."

Then the others joined in with proposals and suggestions, but nothing was positively decided upon just at that time.

The day was spent restfully in wandering along the shore, sitting on the beach or the cottage porches, chatting and gazing out over the sea, or napping, – most of the last-named being done by the lately returned travellers.

The little girls of the family, occasionally joined by Max Raymond and Walter Travilla, spent much of the day together, rather apart from their elders, – Lulu most of the time giving an account of her trip out West and weeks of sojourn in the town of Minersville, the acquaintances she had made, and all that had happened during the stay there, especially of the sad occurrence which so seriously marred the enjoyment of the last days of their visit, Max now and then taking part in the narrative.

Both had a great deal to tell about West Point and Saratoga, and the places of historical interest in their vicinity. Evidently the trip to the far West and back again, with their father, had been one of keen enjoyment to both of them.

So the day passed and evening drew on. The little ones were in bed, the others all gathered upon the porches enjoying the delicious sea-breeze, and the view of the rolling waves, crested with foam, and looking like molten silver where the moonbeams fell full upon them.

Every one seemed gay and happy, and there was a good deal of cheerful chat, particularly on the porch of the Raymond cottage, where were Grandma Elsie, Edward Travilla, Donald Keith, the Captain, with Violet and his older children, and some of the other young persons.

The sound of approaching wheels attracted their attention. A carriage drew up in front of the house, and from it alighted a gentleman in the uniform of a captain in the navy.

"Wade!" exclaimed Captain Raymond, hurrying out to meet him. "My dear friend, this is very kind in you. I had hardly hoped to see you until to-morrow, and not then without hunting you up. You are as welcome as this delicious sea-breeze."

"Thanks, Raymond, that's quite a compliment," laughed the other, shaking hands heartily; "but I deserve no thanks, as I came quite as much for my own satisfaction as for yours. I understand you have been here for some weeks, but I only heard of it accidentally this morning."

"But it was only this morning I arrived," Captain Raymond said in a tone of amusement; then, as they had stepped into the midst of the group upon the porch, he proceeded to introduce his friend to the ladies and gentlemen composing it.

There followed an hour of lively, pleasant chat, during which Captain Wade made acquaintance with not only the grown people, but the younger ones also, seeming to take a great deal of interest in them, – Max especially, – listening with attention and evident sympathy as Captain Raymond told of his son's prospect of soon becoming a naval cadet.

"You have my best wishes, Max," said Captain Wade. "I hope to live to see you a naval officer as brave, talented, and as much beloved as your father was, and still is."

Max's eyes sparkled, and turned upon his father with a look of deepest respect and affection as he replied, "I could ask nothing better than that, sir, I am sure."

"And I could wish you nothing better than that you may prove a son worthy of such a father," returned Captain Wade. "I have known him since he was a boy of your age, and never knew him to be guilty of a mean or dishonourable act."

"Thank you, sir," said Max, his cheeks flushing, and his eyes again seeking his father's face with a look of reverence and filial love; "it is very kind in you to tell me that, though it's no news to me that I'm so fortunate as to be the son of a man any boy might be proud to own as his father."

"Bravo, Max!" exclaimed Mr. Keith, with a pleased laugh. "I like to hear a boy talk in that way of his father, and certainly you have a good right to do so."

"No boy ever had a better right than Max has to speak well of his father," remarked Violet, lightly, but with an earnest undertone in her sweet voice, "and no one is more capable of judging of that than I, who have lived with them both for years."

"And no one could speak too well of Papa," said Lulu, with impulsive warmth, "for there couldn't be a better man than he is."

"I should be sorry to believe that, little daughter," he said, putting an arm round her as she stood close at his side. Then he changed the subject of conversation.

A few minutes later Captain Wade took leave, giving all a cordial invitation to return his call by a visit to the "Wanita."

"We had talked of giving you a call to-morrow," said Captain Raymond, "but that would be a very prompt return of your visit."

"None too prompt," returned Wade. "Our time here together, Raymond, is likely to be all too short, and we would better make the most of it."

"So I think," returned the person addressed; "and I hope we shall have the pleasure of seeing you here frequently."

"I think he's just as nice as he can be," remarked Rosie Travilla, as the carriage drove away with Captain Wade, "and I hope he'll visit us again soon."

"So do I," said Lulu, "I believe naval officers are the very nicest gentlemen in the world."

"That's rather strong, isn't it?" laughed her father; "and as you have made the acquaintance of only two or three in the course of your life, I fear you are hardly a competent judge."

"And what of army officers, my little lady?" asked Donald Keith, with a good-humoured laugh. "Have you nothing to say for them?"

"Oh, yes, sir!" she said. "I forgot them at the moment, and I do really think they are almost equal to the naval ones."

"Almost!" he repeated. "Well, even that is saying a good deal for us if your father is a fair sample of those belonging to the navy."

But it was growing late, and the little party soon separated for the night.

Lulu was nearly ready for bed when her father came to her room to bid her good-night in the old way she liked so much. He took her in his arms with a fond caress, asking, "Does it seem pleasant to be at home – or with the home folks – again?"

"Yes, indeed, Papa," she answered, putting an arm about his neck and laying her cheek to his, "but you are always a great deal more than half of home to me. Oh, I do love you so dearly!"

"And I you, my own darling," her father replied, caressing her again and again.

"I'd rather have you to love me, Papa, than have all the money in the world without you, or with a father that didn't care much about me," she continued.

"Dear child," he said in tender tones, "I value you, and each one of my children, more than words can express. Now I must bid you good-night, for you need all the sleep you can get between this and sunrise."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I do hope to-morrow will be clear, so we can go to see the 'Wanita;' or at least that it won't rain. Perhaps it would be all the pleasanter for a few clouds to keep the sun from being so hot on us."

"No doubt," he replied; "but we must take the weather our heavenly Father sends, and be content and thankful."

"Yes, sir, I'll try to do so; but I do hope it will be such that we can go."

"I hope it will, daughter; but if you should have to give up the trip for the time, I hope and expect to see you do so pleasantly, – which you well may, considering that we are very likely to have other opportunities."

"Well, if anything should happen to keep me at home, and I'm cross or sulky about it, I just hope you'll punish me well for my naughtiness," she said so earnestly that he could scarcely refrain from smiling.

"I'm sure that in that case I should punish myself quite as much as you," he said, giving her another hug. "My dear child, if you care at all for Papa's happiness, – as I am sure you do, – try to be so good that he will never have the pain of inflicting any kind of punishment upon you."

Then he bade her good-night, and left her to her rest.

Lulu's head was scarcely on the pillow before she was fast asleep. When she woke, it was already broad daylight. She sprang up and ran to the window to take an observation of the weather.

"Cloudy, but not raining," she said, half-aloud. "Just as I'd like to have it, if only it will keep so, and not turn to actual rain."

With that she began making a rapid toilet, thinking she would like to take a little run on the beach before the summons to breakfast; but when she reached the porch below, the rain was falling pretty fast.

"Oh, dear!" she sighed, "why couldn't it keep off for a few hours longer?"

"What, daughter, – the rain?" asked her father's voice close at her side, while his hand was laid caressingly upon her head.

"Oh, good-morning, Papa!" she returned, lifting to his a sorely disappointed face. "I didn't know you were here. Yes, sir, it is the rain I'm mourning over, – I do so want to visit that man-of-war to-day; it's really a great disappointment!"

"I'm sorry you should feel it so!" he returned in a sympathizing tone; "but we won't despair yet. I think this is but a passing shower, which will make the trip all the more enjoyable by cooling the air nicely for us. However, should it prove too inclement for our contemplated little jaunt, we must try to remember that our kind and loving heavenly Father orders all these things, and to be patient and content, – more than content, thankful for whatever He sends!"

"I'll try to be content and thankful, Papa; I certainly ought, when I have so many, many blessings, and don't really deserve any of them," she answered, putting her hand into his, and letting him lead her back and forth along the porch, which they had to themselves for the time.

"No; that is true of each one of us," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Just as well as possible, Papa," she answered, smiling up into his face. "I didn't know anything from the time my head touched the pillow till I woke to find it broad daylight."

"That is something to be very thankful for, daughter, as you will discover should sickness and pain ever give you long hours of wakefulness, such as fall to the lot of many a poor sufferer."

"I hope that time will never come to either of us, Papa," she said; "but I'd rather it would come to me than to you. Oh, it was so hard to see you suffer that time you were sick here, and that other time, when Thunderer threw you!"

"Ah, I shall never forget how tenderly affectionate and helpful my children were to me then," he said, with a look and smile that made her heart bound.

Now others of the family began to join them. Mr. Keith came out upon the porch too, and after exchanging a good-morning with those who had preceded him, remarked that it seemed doubtful if they would be able to take their proposed trip to visit Captain Wade and his man-of-war. But by the time breakfast and family worship were over, the clouds began to scatter; and in another hour the carriages were at the door ready to convey them to the wharf, whence a boat would take them to the "Wanita."

Every one did not care to go that day; the party consisted of Grandma Elsie, Edward, Zoe, Rosie Travilla, Evelyn Leland, Mr. Keith, and the Raymonds, not including the very little ones, who were left at home in the care of their nurse.

It was pronounced by all a most enjoyable little excursion. The weather proved favourable, clouds obscuring the sun, but no rain falling; the officers of the "Wanita" were very polite and attentive, taking them about the vessel, and showing them everything likely to interest ladies and children.