III.

The officers of Fort Warrener were assembled, as was the daily morning

custom, in the presence of the colonel commanding. It had long been the

practice of that veteran soldier to require all his commissioned

subordinates to put in an appearance at his office immediately after the

ceremony of guard-mounting. He might have nothing to say to them, or he

might have a good deal; and he was a man capable of saying a good deal

in very few words, and meaning exactly what he said. It was his custom

to look up from his writing as each officer entered and respond to the

respectful salutation tendered him with an equally punctilious

"Good-morning, Captain Gregg," or "Good-morning, Mr. Blake,"--never

omitting the mention of the name, unless, as was sometimes tried, a

squad of them came in together and made their obeisance as a body. In

this event the colonel simply looked each man in the face, as though

taking mental note of the individual constituents of the group, and

contented himself with a "Good-morning, gentlemen."

When in addition to six troops of his own regiment of cavalry there were

sent to the post a major and four companies of infantry, some of the

junior officers of the latter organization had suggested to their

comrades of the yellow stripes that as the colonel had no roll-call it

might be a matter of no great risk to "cut the _matinée_" on some of the

fiendishly cold mornings that soon set in; but the experiment was never

designedly tried, thanks, possibly, to the frank exposition of his

personal views as expressed by Lieutenant Blake, of the cavalry, who

said, "Try it if you are stagnating for want of a sensation, my genial

plodder, but not if you value the advice of one who has been there, so

to speak. The chief will spot you quicker than he can a missing shoe,--a

missing _horse_shoe, Johnny, let me elaborate for your

comprehension,--and the next question will be, 'Mr. Bluestrap, did you

intentionally absent yourself?' and _then_ how will you get out of it?"

The _matinées_, so called, were by no means unpopular features of the

daily routine. The officers were permitted to bring their pipes or

cigars and take their after-breakfast smoke in the big, roomy office of

the commander, just as they were permitted to enjoy the post-prandial

whiff when at evening recitation in the same office they sat around the

room, chatting in low tones, for half an hour, while the colonel

received the reports of his adjutant, the surgeon, and the old and the

new officer of the day. Then any matters affecting the discipline or

instruction or general interests of the command were brought up; both

sides of the question were presented, if question arose; the decision

was rendered then and there, and the officers were dismissed for the day

with the customary "That's all, gentlemen." They left the office well

knowing that only in the event of some sudden emergency would they be

called thither again or disturbed in their daily vocations until the

same hour on the following morning. Meantime, they must be about their

work: drills, if weather permitted; stable-duty, no matter what the

weather; garrison courts, boards of survey, the big general court that

was perennially dispensing justice at the post, and the long list of

minor but none the less exacting demands on the time and attention of

the subalterns and company commanders. The colonel was a strict, even

severe, disciplinarian, but he was cool, deliberate, and just. He

"worked" his officers, and thereby incurred the criticism of a few, but

held the respect of all. He had been a splendid cavalry-commander in the

field of all others where his sterling qualities were sure to find

responsive appreciation in his officers and men,--on active and stirring

campaigns against the Indians,--and among his own regiment he knew that

deep in their hearts the ----th respected and believed in him, even

when they growled at garrison exactions which seemed uncalled for. The

infantry officers knew less of him as a sterling campaigner, and were

not so well pleased with his discipline. It was all right for him to

"rout out" every mother's son in the cavalry at reveille, because all

the cavalry officers had to go to stables soon afterwards,--that was all

they were fit for,--but what on earth was the use of getting them--the

infantry--out of their warm beds before sunrise on a wintry morning and

having no end of roll-calls and such things through the day, "just to

keep them busy"? The real objection--the main objection--to the

colonel's system was that it kept a large number of officers, most of

whom were educated gentlemen, hammering all day long at an endless

routine of trivial duties, allowing actually no time in which they could

read, study, or improve their minds; but, as ill luck would have it, the

three young gentlemen who decided to present to the colonel this view of

the case had been devoting what spare time they could find to a lively

game of poker down at "the store," and their petition for "more time to

themselves" brought down a reply from the oracular lips of the commander

that became immortal on the frontier and made the petitioners nearly

frantic. For a week the trio was the butt of all the wits at Fort

Warrener. And yet the entire commissioned force felt that they were

being kept at the grindstone because of the frivolity of these few

youngsters, and they did not like it. All the same the cavalrymen stuck

up for their colonel, and the infantrymen respected him, and the

_matinées_ were business-like and profitable. They were rarely

unpleasant in any feature; but this particular morning--two days after

the arrival of Mrs. Rayner and her sister--there had been a scene of

somewhat dramatic interest, and the groups of officers in breaking up

and going away could discuss nothing else. The colonel had requested one

of their number to remain, as he wished to speak to him further; and

that man was Lieutenant Hayne.

Seven years had that young gentleman been a second lieutenant of the

regiment of infantry a detachment of which was now stationed at

Warrener. Only this very winter had promotion come to him; and, of all

companies in the regiment, he was gazetted to the first-lieutenancy of

Captain Rayner's. For a while the regiment when by itself could talk of

little else. Mr. Hayne had spent three or four years in the exile of a

little "two-company post" far up in the mountains. Except the officers

there stationed, none of his comrades had seen him during that time. No

one of them would like to admit that he would care to see him. And yet,

when once in a while they got to talking among themselves about him, and

the question was sometimes confidentially asked of comrades who came

down on leave from that isolated station, "How is Hayne doing?" or,

"What is Hayne doing?" the language in which he was referred to grew by

degrees far less truculent and confident than it had been when he first

went thither. Officers of other regiments rarely spoke to the "Riflers"

of Mr. Hayne. Unlike one or two others of their arm of the service, this

particular regiment of foot held the affairs of its officers as

regimental property in which outsiders had no concern. If they had

disagreements, they were kept to themselves; and even in a case which in

its day had attracted wide-spread attention the Riflers had long since

learned to shun all talk outside. It was evident to other commands that

the Hayne affair was a sore point and one on which they preferred

silence. And yet it was getting to be whispered around that the Riflers

were by no means so unanimous as they had been in their opinion of this

very officer. They were becoming divided among themselves; and what

complicated matters was the fact that those who felt their views

undergoing a reconstruction were compelled to admit that just in

proportion as the case of Mr. Hayne rose in their estimation the

reputation of another officer was bound to suffer; and that officer was

Captain Rayner.

Between these two men not a word had been exchanged for five years,--not

a single word since the day when, with ashen face and broken accents,

but with stern purpose in every syllable, Lieutenant Hayne, standing in

the presence of nearly all the officers of his regiment, had hurled this

prophecy in his adversary's teeth: "Though it take me years, I will live

it down despite you; and you will wish to God you had bitten out your

perjured tongue before ever you told the lie that wrecked me."

No wonder there was talk, and lots of it, in the "Riflers" and all

through the garrison when Rayner's first lieutenant suddenly threw up

his commission and retired to the mines he had located in Montana, and

Hayne, the "senior second," was promoted to the vacancy. Speculation as

to what would be the result was given a temporary rest by the news that

War Department orders had granted the subaltern six months' leave,--the

first he had sought in as many years. It was known that he had gone

East; but hardly had he been away a fortnight when there came the

trouble with the Cheyennes at the reservation,--a leap for liberty by

some fifty of the band, and an immediate rush of the cavalry in

pursuit. There were some bloody atrocities, as there always are. All the

troops in the department were ordered to be in readiness for instant

service, while the officials eagerly watched the reports to see which

way the desperate band would turn; and the next heard of Mr. Hayne was

the news that he had thrown up his leave and had hurried out to join his

company the moment the Eastern papers told of the trouble. It was all

practically settled by the time he reached the department; but the

spirit and intent of his action could not be doubted. And now here he

was at Warrener. That very morning during the _matinée_ he had entered

the office unannounced, walked up to the desk of the commander, and,

while every voice but his in the room was stilled, he quietly spoke:

"Permit me to introduce myself, colonel,--Mr. Hayne. I desire to

relinquish my leave of absence and report for duty."

The colonel quickly arose and extended his hand:

"Mr. Hayne, I am especially glad to see you and to thank you here for

all your care and kindness to our men. The doctor tells me that many of

them would have had to suffer the loss of noses and ears, even of hands

and feet in some cases, but for your attention. Major Stannard will add

his thanks to mine when he returns. Take a seat, sir, for the present.

You are acquainted with the officers of your own regiment, doubtless.

Mr. Billings, introduce Mr. Hayne to ours."

Whereat the adjutant courteously greeted the new-comer, presented a

small party of yellow-strapped shoulders, and then drew him into earnest

talk about the adventure of the train. It was noticed that Mr. Hayne

neither by word nor glance gave the slightest recognition of the

presence of the officers of his own regiment, and that they as

studiously avoided him. One or two of their number had, indeed, risen

and stepped forward, as though to offer him the civil greeting due to

one of their own cloth; but it was with evident doubt of the result.

They reddened when he met their tentative--which was that of a

gentleman--with a cold look of utter repudiation. He did not choose to

see them, and, of course, that ended it.

Nor was his greeting hearty among the cavalrymen. There were only a few

present, as most of the ----th were still out in the field and marching

slowly homeward. The introductions were courteous and formal, there was

even constraint among some two or three, but there was civility and an

evident desire to refer to his services in behalf of their men. All such

attempts, however, Mr. Hayne waved aside by an immediate change of the

subject. It was plain that to them too, he had the manner of a man who

was at odds with the world and desired to make no friends.

The colonel quickly noted the general silence and constraint, and

resolved to shorten it as much as possible. Dropping his pen, he wheeled

around in his chair with determined cheerfulness:

"Mr. Hayne, you will need a day or two to look about before you select

quarters and get ready for work, I presume."

"Thank you, colonel. No, sir. I shall move in this afternoon and be on

duty to-morrow morning," was the calm reply.

There was an awkward pause for a moment. The officers looked blankly

from one to another, and then began craning their necks to search for

the post quartermaster, who sat an absorbed listener. Then the colonel

spoke again:

"I appreciate your promptness, Mr. Hayne; but have you considered that

in choosing quarters according to your rank you will necessarily move

somebody out? We are crowded now, and many of your juniors are married,

and the ladies will want time to pack."

An anxious silence again. Captain Rayner was gazing at his boot-toes and

trying to appear utterly indifferent; others leaned forward, as though

eager to hear the answer. A faint smile crossed Mr. Hayne's features: he

seemed rather to enjoy the situation:

"I _have_ considered, colonel. I shall turn nobody out, and nobody need

be incommoded in the least."

"Oh! then you will share quarters with some of the bachelors?" asked the

colonel, with evident relief.

"No, sir;" and the answer was stern in tone, though perfectly

respectful: "I shall live as I have lived for years,--utterly alone."

One could have heard a pin drop in the office,--even on the matted

floor. The colonel half rose:

"Why, Mr. Hayne, there is not a vacant set of quarters in the garrison.

You will _have_ to move some one out if you decide to live alone."

"There may be no quarters _in_ the post, sir, but, if you will permit

me, I can live near my company and yet in officers' quarters."

"How so, sir?"

"In the house out there on the edge of the garrison, facing the prairie.

It is within stone's-throw of the barracks of Company B, and is exactly

like those built for the officers in here along the parade."

"Why, Mr. Hayne, no officers ever lived there. It is utterly out of the

way and isolated. I believe it was built for the sutler years ago, but

was bought in by the government afterwards.--Who lives there now, Mr.

Quartermaster?"

"No one, sir. It is being used as a tailors' shop; half a dozen of the

company tailors work there; but I can send them back to their own

barracks. The house is in good repair, and, as Mr. Hayne says, exactly

like those built for officers' use."

"And you mean you want to live there, alone, Mr. Hayne?"

"I do, sir,--exactly."

The colonel turned sharply to his desk once more. The strained silence

continued a moment. Then he faced his officers:

"Mr. Hayne, will you remain a few moments? I wish to speak with

you.--Gentlemen, that is all this morning." And so the meeting

adjourned.

While many of the cavalry officers strolled into the neighboring

club-and reading-room, it was noticed that their comrades of the

infantry lost no time at intermediate points, but took the shortest road

to the row of brown cottages known as the officers' quarters. The

feeling of constraint that had settled upon all was still apparent in

the group that entered the club-room, and for a moment no one spoke.

There was a general settling into easy-chairs and picking up of

newspapers without reference to age or date. No one seemed to want to

say anything, and yet every one felt it necessary to have some apparent

excuse for becoming absorbed in other matters. This was so evident to

Lieutenant Blake that he speedily burst into a laugh,--the first that

had been heard,--and when two or three heads popped out from behind

their printed screens to inquire into the cause of his mirth, that

light-hearted gentleman was seen sprawling his long legs apart and

gazing out of the window after the groups of infantrymen.

"What do you see that's so intensely funny?" growled one of the elders

among the dragoons.

"Nothing, old mole,--nothing," said Blake, turning suddenly about. "It

looks too much like a funeral procession for fun. What I'm chuckling at

is the absurdity of our coming in here like so many mutes in weepers.

It's none of _our_ funeral."

"Strikes me the situation is damned awkward," growled "the mole" again.

"Here's a fellow comes in who's cut by his regiment and has placed ours

under lasting obligation before he gets inside the post."

"Well, does any man here know the rights and wrongs of the case,

anyhow?" said a tall, bearded captain as he threw aside the paper which

he had not been reading, and rose impatiently to his feet. "It seems to

me, from the little I've heard of Mr. Hayne and the little I've seen,

that there is a broad variation between facts and appearances. He looks

like a gentleman."

"No one _does_ know anything more of the matter than was known at the

time of the court-martial five years ago," answered "the mole." "Of

course you have heard all about that; and my experience is that when a

body of officers and gentlemen find, after due deliberation on the

evidence, that another has been guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer

and a gentleman, the chances are a hundred to one he has been doing

something disreputable, to say the least."

"Then why wasn't he dismissed?" queried a young lieutenant. "The law

says he must be."

"That's right, Dolly: pull your Ives and Benèt on 'em, and show you know

all about military law and courts-martial," said the captain,

crushingly. "It's one thing for a court to sentence, and another for the

President to approve. Hayne _was_ dismissed, so far as a court could do

it, but the President remitted the whole thing."

"There was more to it than that, though, and you know it, Buxton," said

Blake. "Neither the department commander nor General Sherman thought the

evidence conclusive, and they said so,--especially old Gray Fox. And you

ask any of these fellows here now whether they believe Hayne was really

guilty, and I'll bet you that eight out of ten will flunk at the

question."

"And yet they all cut him dead. That's _prima facie_ evidence of what

they think."

"Cut be blowed! By gad, if any man asked me to testify on oath as to

where the cut lay, I should say he had cut _them_. Did you see how he

ignored Foster and Graham this morning?"

"I did; and I thought it damned ungentlemanly in him. Those fellows did

the proper thing, and he ought to have acknowledged it," broke in a

third officer.

"I'm not defending _that_ point; the Lord knows he has done nothing to

encourage civility with his own people; but there are two sides to every

story, and I asked their adjutant last fall, when there was some talk

of his company's being sent here, what Hayne's status was, and he told

me. There isn't a squarer man or sounder soldier in the army than the

adjutant of the Riflers; and he said that it was Hayne's stubborn pride

that more than anything else stood in the way of his restoration to

social standing. He had made it a rule that every one who was not for

him was against him, and refused to admit any man to his society who

would not first come to him of his own volition and say he believed him

utterly innocent. As that involved the necessity of their looking upon

Rayner as either perjured or grossly and persistently mistaken, no one

felt called upon to do it. Guilty or innocent, he has lived the life of

a Pariah ever since."

"_I_ wanted to open out to him, to-day," said Captain Gregg, "but the

moment I began to speak of his great kindness to our men he froze as

stiff as Mulligan's ear. What was the use? I simply couldn't thaw an

icicle. What made him so effective in getting the frost out of them was

his capacity for absorbing it into his own system."

"Well, here, gentlemen," said Buxton, impatiently, "we've got to face

this thing sooner or later, and may as well do it now. I know Rayner,

and like him, and don't believe he's the kind of man to wilfully wrong

another. I _don't_ know Mr. Hayne, and Mr. Hayne apparently don't want

to know me. _I_ think that where a man has been convicted of

dishonorable--disgraceful conduct and is cut by his whole regiment it is

our business to back the regiment, not the man. Now the question is,

where shall we draw the line in this case? It's none of our funeral, as

Blake says, but ordinarily it would be our duty to call upon this

officer. Shall we do it, now that he is in Coventry, or shall we leave

him to his own devices?"

"I'll answer for myself, Buxton," said Blake, "and you can do as, you

please. Except that one thing, and the not unusual frivolities of a

youngster that occurred previous to his trial, I understand that his

character has been above reproach. So far as I can learn, he is a far

more reputable character than I am, and a better officer than most of

us. Growl all you want to, comrades mine: 'it's a way we have in the

army,' and I like it. So long as I include myself in these malodorous

comparisons, you needn't swear. It is my conviction that the Riflers

wouldn't say he was guilty to-day if they hadn't said so five years ago.

It is my information that he has paid every cent of the damages, whether

he caused them or not, and it is my intention to go and call upon Mr.

Hayne as soon as he's settled. I don't propose to influence any man in

his action; and excuse me, Buxton, I think you _did_."

The captain looked wrathful. Blake was an oddity, of whom he rather

stood in awe, for there was no mistaking the popularity and respect in

which he was held in his own regiment. The ----th was somewhat

remarkable for being emphatically an "outspoken crowd," and for some

years, thanks to a leaven of strong and truthful men in whom this trait

was pronounced and sustained, it had grown to be the custom of all but a

few of the officers to discuss openly and fully all matters of

regimental policy and utterly to discountenance covert action of any

kind. Blake was thoroughly popular, and generally respected, despite a

tendency to rant and rattle on most occasions. Nevertheless, there were

signs of dissent as to the line of action he proposed, though it were

only for his own guidance.

"And how do you suppose Rayner and the Riflers generally will regard

your calling on their black sheep?" asked Buxton, after a pause.

"I don't know," said Blake, more seriously, and with a tone of concern.

"I like Rayner, and have found most of those fellows thorough gentlemen

and good friends. This will test the question thoroughly. I believe most

of them, except of course Rayner, would do the same were they in my

place. At all events, I mean to see."

"What are you going to do, Gregg?" asked "the mole," wheeling suddenly

on his brother troop-commander.

"I don't know," said Gregg, doubtfully. "I think I'll ask the colonel."

"What do you suppose _he_ means to do?"

"I don't know again; but I'll bet we all know as soon as he makes up his

mind; and he is making up his mind now,--or he's made it up, for there

goes Mr. Hayne, and here comes the orderly. Something's up already."

Every head was turned to the door-way as the orderly's step was heard in

the outer hall, and every voice stilled to hear the message, it was so

unusual for the commanding officer to send for one of his subordinates

after the morning meeting. The soldier tapped at the panel, and at the

prompt "Come in" pushed it partly open and stood with one white-gloved

hand resting on the knob, the other raised to his cap-visor in salute.

"Lieutenant Blake?" he asked, as he glanced around.

"What is it?" asked Blake, stepping quickly from the window.

"The commanding officer's compliments, sir, and could he see the

lieutenant one minute before the court meets?"

"Coming at once," said Blake, as he pushed his way through the chairs,

and the orderly faced about and disappeared.

"I'll bet it's about Hayne," was the apparently unanimous sentiment as

the cavalry party broke up and scattered for the morning's duties. Some

waited purposely to hear.

The adjutant alone stood in the colonel's presence as Blake knocked and

entered. All others had gone. There was a moment's hesitation, and the

colonel paused and looked his man over before he spoke:

"You will excuse my sending for you, Mr. Blake, when I tell you that it

is a matter that has to be decided at once. In this case you will

consider, too, that I want you to say yes or no exactly as you would to

a comrade of your own grade. If you were asked to meet Mr. Hayne at any

other house in the garrison than mine, would you desire to accept? You

are aware of all the circumstances, the adjutant tells me."

"I am, sir, and have just announced my intention of calling upon him."

"Then will you dine with us this evening to meet Mr. Hayne?"

"I will do so with pleasure, sir."

* * * * *

It could hardly have been an hour afterwards when Mrs. Rayner entered

the library in her cosey home and found Miss Travers entertaining

herself with a book.

"Have you written to Mr. Van Antwerp this morning?" she asked. "I

thought that was what you came here for."

"I did mean to, but Mrs. Waldron has been here, and I was interrupted."

"It is fully fifteen minutes since she left, Nellie. You might have

written two or three pages already; and you know that all manner of

visitors will be coming in by noon."

"I was just thinking over something she told me. I'll write presently."

"Mrs. Waldron is a woman who talks about everything and everybody. I

advise you to listen to her no more than you can help. What was it she

told you?"

Miss Travers smiled roguishly: "Why should you want to know, Kate, if

you disapprove of her revelations?"

"Oh," with visible annoyance, "it is to--I wanted to know so as to let

you see that it was something unfounded, as usual."

"She said she had just been told that the colonel was going to give a

dinner-party this evening to Mr. Hayne."

"What?"

"She--said--she--had--just--been--told--that--the colonel--was going--to

give--a dinner-party--this evening--to Mr.--Hayne."

"Who told her?"

"Kate, I didn't ask."

"Who are invited? None of _ours_?"

"Kate, I don't know."

"Where did she say she had heard it?"

"She didn't say."

Mrs. Rayner paused one moment, irresolute: "Didn't she tell you anything

more about it?"

"Nothing, sister mine. Why should you feel such an interest in what Mrs.

Waldron says, if she's such a gossip?" And Miss Travers was evidently

having hard work to keep from laughing outright.

"_You_ had better write your letter," said her big sister, and flounced

suddenly out of the room and up the stairs.

A moment later she was at the parlor door with a wrap thrown over her

shoulders: "If Captain Rayner comes in, tell him I want particularly to

see him before he goes out again."

"Where are you going, Kate?"

"Oh, just over to Mrs. Waldron's a moment."