In Beverley's case the clash was profoundly disturbing.

And now he clutched the thought that Alice was not a mere child of the woods, but a daughter of an old family of cavaliers! With coat buttoned close against the driving wind, he strode toward the fort in one of those melodramatic moods to which youth in all climes and times is subject.

It was like a slap in the face when Captain Helm met him at the stockade gate and said: "Well, sir, you are good at hiding." "Hiding! what do you mean, Captain Helm ?" he demanded, not in the mildest tone.
"I mean, sir, that I've been hunting you for an hour and more, over the whole of this damned town.

The English and Indians are upon us, and there's no time for fooling.

Where are all the men ?" Beverley comprehended the situation in a second.