CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE LAST GLEAM BEFORE THE STORM.
But with us, who were staying down at Major Buckley's, a fortnight passed on so pleasantly that the horror of poor Lee's murder had begun to wear off, and we were getting once more as merry and careless as though we were living in the old times of profound peace.

Sometimes we would think of poor Mary Hawker, at her lonely watch up at the forest station; but that or any other unpleasant subject was soon driven out of our heads by Captain Desborough, who had come back with six troopers, declared the country in a state of siege, proclaimed martial law, and kept us all laughing and amused from daylight to dark.
Captain Brentwood and his daughter Alice (the transcendently beautiful!) had come up, and were staying there.

Jim and his friend Halbert were still away, but were daily expected.

I never passed a pleasanter time in my life than during that fortnight's lull between the storms.
"Begorra (that's a Scotch expression, Miss Brentwood, but very forcible)," said Captain Desborough.

"I owe you more than I can ever repay for buying out the Donovans.