The night was extremely dark. A high wind was blowing from the west when the lights of the boat were seen as it rounded the headland on its way to the wharf.
For a moment Rug was speechless—partly from disappointment and partly from displeasure. As he stood before them he looked a model of muscular strength and manliness, though little more than a boy. He looked fondly at Hannah, and as she met his gaze her cheeks grew crimson and her eyes dropped shyly under their long lashes. The devotion of her lover filled her with an indescribable ecstasy which thrilled her innermost soul, making it responsive to his. In her opinion Rug was all that was good and true and noble. He was her ideal, and she was determined to love, honor and obey him, humbly, tenderly, completely, submissively.
'How old are you, Sir?' she asked Julien.
"Yes, it is necessary—unfortunately—if you would be saved from lifelong association with a bore," responded her brother.
"Aw, indeed," said the officer, "I should never have dreamed that your friend was an Indian girl. Have you had much difficulty in acquiring a knowledge of English?" asked the lieutenant.