Sunday at noon
But whither had he gone that he had not come back to us ? Like the sea is the northland , full of nameless graves ; and after sending scouts far and wide , we gave up all hope of finding the sailor lad . But in the fort was another whose presence our rough fellows likened to a star flower on the stained ground of some hard-fought battle . After M. Radisson had quieted turbulent spirits by a reading of holy lessons , Mistress Hortense queened it over our table of a Sunday at noon . Waiting upon her at either hand were the blackamoor and the negress . A soldier in red stood guard behind ; and every man , officer , and commoner down the long mess-table tuned his manners to the pure grace of her fair face . What a hushing of voices and cleansing of wits and disusing of oaths was there after my little lady came to our rough Habitation !