XIV.

"The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley." Mrs. Rayner,

ill in mind and body, had yielded to her lord's entreaties and

determined to start eastward with her sister without delay. Packing was

already begun. Miss Travers had promised herself that she would within

thirty-six hours put Mr. Hayne in possession of certain facts or

theories which in her opinion bore strongly upon the "clearing up" of

the case against him; Mr. Hayne had determined that he would see Major

Waldron on the coming day and begin active efforts towards the

restoration of his social rights; the doctor had about decided on a new

project for inducing Clancy to unbosom himself of what he knew; Captain

Rayner--tired of the long struggle--was almost ready to welcome anything

which should establish his subaltern's innocence, and was on the point

of asking for six months' leave just as soon as he had arranged for

Clancy's final discharge from service: he had reasons for staying at the

post until that Hibernian household was fairly and squarely removed; and

Mrs. Clancy's plan was to take Mike to the distant East, "where she had

frinds." There were other schemes and projects, no doubt, but these

mainly concerned our leading characters, and one and all they were put

to the right-about by the events of the following day.

The colonel, with his gruff second in command, Major Stannard, had been

under orders for several days to proceed on this particular date to a

large town a day's journey eastward by rail. A court-martial composed

mainly of field-officers was ordered there to assemble for the trial of

an old captain of cavalry whose propensity it was not so much to get

drunk as never to get drunk without concomitant publicity and discovery.

It was a rare thing for the old war-dog to take so much as a glass of

wine; he went for months without it; but the instant he began to drink

he was moved to do or say something disreputable, and that was the

trouble now. He was an unlucky old trooper, who had risen from the

lowest grades, fought with credit, and even, at times, commanded his

regiment, during the war; but war records could not save him when he

wouldn't save himself, and he had to go. The court was ordered, and the

result was a foregone conclusion. The colonel, his adjutant, and Major

Stannard were to drive to town during the afternoon and take the

east-bound train, leaving Major Waldron in command of the post; but

before guard-mounting a telegram was received which was sent from

department head-quarters the evening before, announcing that one of the

officers detailed for the court was seriously ill, and directing Major

Waldron to take his place. So it resulted in the post being left to the

command of the senior captain present for duty; and that man was Captain

Buxton. He had never had so big a command before in all his life.

Major Waldron of course had to go home and make his preparations. Mr.

Hayne, therefore, had brief opportunity to speak with him. It was seen,

however, that they had a short talk together on the major's piazza, and

that when they parted the major shook him warmly and cordially by the

hand. Rayner, Buxton, Ross, and some juniors happened to be coming down

along the walk at the moment, and, seeing them, as though with pointed

meaning the major called out, so that all could hear,--

"By the way, Hayne, I wish you would drop in occasionally while I'm gone

and take Mrs. Waldron out for a walk or drive: my horses are always at

your service. And--a--I'll write to you about that matter the moment

I've had a chance to talk with the colonel,--to-morrow, probably."

And Hayne touched his cap in parting salute, and went blithely off with

brightened eye and rising color.

Buxton glowered after him a moment, and conversation suddenly ceased in

their party. Finally he blurted out,--

"Strikes me your major might do a good deal better by himself and his

regiment by standing up for its _morale_ and discipline than by openly

flaunting his favoritism for convicts in our faces. If I were in your

regiment I'd cut _him_."

"You wouldn't have to," muttered one of the group to his neighbor: "the

cut would have been on the other side long ago." And the speaker was

Buxton's own subaltern.

Rayner said nothing. His eyes were troubled and anxious, and he looked

after Hayne with an expression far more wearied than vindictive.

"The major is fond of music, captain," said Mr. Ross, with mischievous

intent. "He hasn't been to the club since the night you sang 'Eileen

Alanna.' That was about the time Hayne's piano came."

"Yes," put in Foster, "Mrs. Waldron says he goes and owls Hayne now

night after night just to hear him play."

"It would be well for him, then, if he kept a better guard on Mr.

Hayne's _other_ visitors," said Buxton, with a black scowl. "I don't

know how you gentlemen in the Riflers look upon such matters, but in the

----th the man who dared to introduce a woman of the town into his

quarters would be kicked out in short order."

"You don't mean to say that anybody accuses Hayne of that, do you?"

asked Ross, in amaze.

"I do,--_just_ that. Only, I say this to you, it has but just come to

light, and only one or two know it. To prove it positively he's got to

be allowed more rope; for he got her out of the way last time before we

could clinch the matter. If he suspects it is known he won't repeat it;

if kept to ourselves he will probably try it again,--and be caught. Now

I charge you all to regard this as confidential."

"But, Captain Buxton," said Ross, "this is so serious a matter that I

don't like to believe it. Who can prove such a story?"

"Of course not, Mr. Ross. You are quite ready to treat a man as a thief,

but can't believe he'll do another thing that is disreputable. That is

characteristic of your style of reasoning," said Buxton, with biting

sarcasm.

"You can't wither me with contempt, Captain Buxton. I have a right to my

opinion, and I have known Mr. Hayne for years, and if I _did_ believe

him guilty of one crime five years ago I'm not so ready to believe him

guilty of another now. This isn't--isn't like Hayne."

"No, of course not, as I said before. Now, will you tell me, Mr. Ross,

just why Mr. Hayne chose that ramshackle old shanty out there on the

prairie, all by himself, unless it was to be where he could have his

chosen companions with him at night and no one be the wiser?"

"I don't pretend to fathom his motives, sir; but I don't believe it was

for any such purpose as you seem to think."

"In other words, you think I'm circulating baseless scandal, do you?"

"I have said nothing of the kind; and I protest against your putting

words into my mouth I never used."

"You intimated as much, anyhow, and you plainly don't believe it."

"Well, I don't believe--that is, I don't see how it could happen."

"Couldn't the woman drive out from town after dark, send the carriage

back, and have it call for her again in the morning?" asked Buxton.

"Possibly. Still, it isn't a proved fact that a woman spent the night at

Hayne's, even if a carriage was seen coming out. You've got hold of some

Sudsville gossip, probably," replied Ross.

"I have, have I? By God, sir, I'll teach you better manners before we

get through with this question. Do you know who saw the carriage, and

who saw the woman, both at Hayne's quarters?"

"Certainly I don't! What I don't understand is how you should have been

made the recipient of the story."

"Mr. Ross, just govern your tongue, sir, and remember you are speaking

to your superior officer, and don't venture to treat my statements with

disrespect hereafter. _I saw it myself!_"

"_You!_" gulped Ross, while amaze and incredulity shot across his

startled face.

"You!" exclaimed others of the group, in evident astonishment and

dismay. Rayner alone looked unchanged. It was no news to him, while to

every other man in the party it was a shock. Up to that instant the

prevailing belief had been, with Ross, that Buxton had found some

garrison gossip and was building an edifice thereon. His positive

statement, however, was too much for the most incredulous.

"Now what have you to say?" he asked, in rude triumph.

There was no answer for a moment; then Ross spoke:

"Of course, Captain Buxton, I withdraw any expression of doubt. It never

occurred to me that you could have seen it. May I ask when and how?"

"The last time I was officer of the day, sir; and Captain Rayner is my

witness as to the time. Others, whom I need not mention, saw it with me.

There is no mistake, sir. The woman was there." And Buxton stood

enjoying the effect.

Ross looked white and dazed. He turned slowly away, hesitated, looked

back, then exclaimed,--

"You are sure it was--it was not some one that had a right to be there?"

"How could it be?" said Buxton, gruffly. "You know he has not an

acquaintance in town, or here, who could be with him there at night."

"Does the commanding officer know of it?" asked Mr. Royce, after a

moment's silence.

"_I_ am the commanding officer, Mr. Royce," said Buxton, with majestic

dignity,--"at least I will be after twelve o'clock; and you may depend

upon it, gentlemen, this thing will not occur while I am in command

without its receiving the exact treatment it deserves. Remember, now,

not a word of this to anybody. You are as much interested as I am in

bringing to justice a man who will disgrace his uniform and his regiment

and insult every lady in the garrison by such an act. This sort of thing

of course will run him out of the service for good and all. We simply

have to be sure of our ground and make the evidence conclusive. Leave

that to me the next time it happens. I repeat, say nothing of this to

any one."

But Rayner had already told his wife.

Just as Major Waldron was driving off to the station that bright April

afternoon and his carriage was whirling through the east gate, the

driver caught sight of Lieutenant Hayne running up Prairie Avenue,

waving his hand and shouting to him. He reined in his spirited bays with

some difficulty, and Hayne finally caught up with them.

"What is it, Hayne?" asked Waldron, with kindly interest, leaning out of

his carriage.

"They will be back to-night, sir. Here is a telegram that has just

reached me."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am not to be here to welcome them; but

Mrs. Waldron will be delighted, and she will come to call the moment you

let her know. Keep them till I get back, if you possibly can."

"Ay, ay, sir. Good-by."

"Good-by, Hayne. God bless you, and--good luck!"

A little later that afternoon Mrs. Rayner had occasion to go into her

sister's room. It was almost sunset, and Nellie had been summoned

down-stairs to see visitors. Both the ladies were busy with their

packing,--Mrs. Rayner, as became an invalid, superintending, and Miss

Travers, as became the junior, doing all the work. It was rather trying

to pack all the trunks and receive visitors of both sexes at odd hours.

Some of her garrison acquaintances would have been glad to come and

help, but those whom she would have welcomed were not agreeable to the

lady of the house, and those the lady of the house would have chosen

were not agreeable to her. The relations between the sisters were

somewhat strained and unnatural, and had been growing more and more so

for several days past. Mrs. Rayner's desk was already packed away. She

wanted to send a note, and bethought her of her sister's portfolio.

Opening it, she drew out some paper and envelopes, and with the latter

came an envelope sealed and directed. One glance at its superscription

sent the blood to her cheek and fire to her eye. Was it possible? Was it

credible? Her pet, her baby sister, her pride and delight,--until she

found her stronger in will,--her proud-spirited, truthful Nell, was

beyond question corresponding with Lieutenant Hayne! Here was a note

addressed to him. How many more might not have been exchanged?

Ruthlessly now she explored the desk, searching for something from him,

but her scrutiny was vain. Oh, what could she say, what could she do, to

convey to her erring sister an adequate sense of the extent of her

displeasure? How could she bring her to realize the shame, the guilt,

the scandal, of her course? She, Nellie Travers, the betrothed wife of

Steven Van Antwerp, corresponding secretly with this--this scoundrel,

whose past, crime-laden as it had been, was as nothing compared to the

present with its degradation of vice? Ah! she had it! What would ever

move her as that could and must?

When the trumpets rang out their sunset call and the boom of the evening

gun shook the windows in Fort Warrener and Nellie Travers came running

up-stairs again to her room, she started at the sight that met her eyes.

There stood Mrs. Rayner, like Juno in wrath inflexible, glaring at her

from the commanding height of which she was so proud, and pointing in

speechless indignation at the little note that lay upon the open

portfolio.

For a moment neither spoke. Then Miss Travers, who had turned very

white, but whose blue eyes never flinched and whose lips were set and

whose little foot was tapping the carpet ominously, thus began:

"Kate, I do not recognize your right to overhaul my desk or supervise my

correspondence."

"Understand this first, Cornelia," said Mrs. Rayner, who hated the

baptismal name as much as did her sister, and used it only when she

desired to be especially and desperately impressive: "I found it by

accident. I never dreamed of such a possibility as this. I never, even

after what I have seen and heard, could have believed you guilty of

this; but, now that I have found it, I have the right to ask, what are

its contents?"

"I decline to tell you."

"Do you deny my right to inquire?"

"I will not discuss that question now. The other is far graver. I will

not tell you, Kate, except this: there is no word there that an engaged

girl should not write."

"Of that I mean to satisfy myself, or rather--"

"You will not open it, Kate. No! Put that letter down! You have never

known me to prevaricate in the faintest degree, and you have no excuse

for doubting. I will furnish a copy of that for Mr. Van Antwerp at any

time; but you cannot see it."

"You still persist in your wicked and unnatural intimacy with that man,

even after all that I have told you. Now for the last time hear me: I

have striven not to tell you this; I have striven not to sully your

thoughts by such a revelation; but, since nothing else will check you,

tell it I must, and what I tell you my husband told me in sacred

confidence, though soon enough it will be a scandal to the whole

garrison."

And when darkness settled down on Fort Warrener that starlit April

evening and the first warm breeze from the south came sighing about the

casements and one by one the lights appeared along officers' row, there

was no light in Nellie Travers's window. The little note lay in ashes on

the hearth, and she, with burning, shame-stricken cheeks, with a black,

scorching, gnawing pain at her heart, was hiding her face in her pillow.

And yet it was a jolly evening, after all,--that is, for some hours and

for some people. As Mrs. Rayner and her sister were so soon to go,

probably by the morrow's train if their section could be secured, the

garrison had decided to have an informal dance as a suitable farewell.

Their announcement of impending departure had come so suddenly and

unexpectedly that there was no time to prepare anything elaborate, such

as a german with favors, etc.; but good music and an extemporized supper

could be had without trouble. The colonel's wife and most of the cavalry

ladies, on consultation, had decided that it was the very thing to do,

and the young officers took hold with a will: they were always ready for

a dance. Now that Mrs. Rayner was really going, the quarrel should be

ignored, and the ladies would all be as pleasant to her as though

nothing had happened,--provided, of course, she dropped her absurd airs

of injured womanhood and behaved with courtesy. The colonel had had a

brief talk with his better half before starting for the train, and

suggested that it was very probable that Mrs. Rayner had seen the folly

of her ways by that time,--the captain certainly had been behaving as

though he regretted the estrangement,--and if encouraged by a

"let's-drop-the-whole-thing" sort of manner she would be glad to

reciprocate. He felt far less anxiety herein than he did in leaving the

post to the command of Captain Buxton. So scrupulously had he been

courteous to that intractable veteran that Buxton had no doubt in his

own mind that the colonel looked upon him as the model officer of the

regiment. It was singularly unfortunate that he should have to be left

in command, but his one or two seniors among the captains were away on

long leave, and there was no help for it. The colonel, seriously

disquieted, had a few words of earnest talk with him before leaving the

post, cautioning him so particularly not to interfere with any of the

established details and customs that Buxton got very much annoyed, and

showed it.

"If your evidence were not imperatively necessary before this court, I

declare I believe I'd leave you behind," said the colonel to his

adjutant. "There is no telling what mischief Captain Buxton won't do if

left to himself."

It must have been near midnight, and the hop was going along

beautifully, and Captain Rayner, who was officer of the day, was just

escorting his wife in to supper, and Nellie, although looking a trifle

tired and pale, was chatting brightly with a knot of young officers when

a corporal of the guard came to the door: "The commanding officer's

compliments, and he desires to see the officer of the day at once."

There was a general laugh. "Isn't that Buxton all over? The colonel

would never think of sending for an officer in the dead of night, except

for a fire or alarm; but old Bux. begins putting on frills the moment he

gets a chance. Thank God, _I'm_ not on guard to-night!" said Mr. Royce.

"What _can_ he want with you?" asked Mrs. Rayner, pettishly. "The idea

of one captain ordering another around like this!"

"I'll be back in five minutes," said Rayner, as he picked up his sword

and disappeared.

But ten minutes--fifteen--passed, and he came not. Mrs. Rayner grew

worried, and Mr. Blake led her out on the rude piazza to see what they

could see, and several others strolled out at the same time. The music

had ceased, and the night air was not too cold. Not a soul was in sight

out on the starlit parade. Not an unusual sound was heard. There was

nothing to indicate the faintest trouble; and yet Captain Buxton, the

commanding officer, had been called out by his "striker" or

soldier-servant before eleven o'clock, had not returned at all, and in

little over half an hour had sent for the officer of the day. What did

it mean? Questioning and talking thus among themselves, somebody said,

"Hark!" and held up a warning hand.

Faint, far, muffled, there sounded on the night air a shot, then a

woman's scream; then all was still.

"Mrs. Clancy again!" said one.

"That was not Mrs. Clancy: 'twas a far different voice," answered Blake,

and tore away across the parade as fast as his long legs would carry

him.

"Look! The guard are running too!" cried Mrs. Waldron. "What can it be?"

And, sure enough, the gleam of the rifles could be seen as the men ran

rapidly away in the direction of the east gate. Mrs. Rayner had grown

ghastly, and was looking at Miss Travers, who with white lips and

clinched hands stood leaning on one of the wooden posts and gazing with

all her eyes across the dim level. Others came hurrying out from the

hall. Other young officers ran in pursuit of the first starters. "What's

the matter? What's happened?" were the questions that flew from lip to

lip.

"I--I must go home," faltered Mrs. Rayner. "Come, Nellie!"

"Oh, don't go, Mrs. Rayner. It can't be anything serious."

But, even as they urged, a man came running towards them.

"Is the doctor here?" he panted.

"Yes. What's the trouble?" asked Dr. Pease, as he squeezed his burly

form through the crowded door-way.

"You're wanted, sir. Loot'nant Hayne's shot; an' Captain Rayner he's

hurt too, sir."