Mr. Hayne was up and around again. The springtime was coming, and the
prairie roads were good and dry, and the doctor had told him he must
live in the open air awhile and ride and walk and drive. He stood in no
want of "mounts," for three or four of his cavalry friends were ready to
lend him a saddle-horse any day. Mr. and Mrs. Hurley, after making many
pleasant acquaintances, had gone on to Denver, and Captain Buxton was
congratulating himself that he, at least, had not run foul of the
engineer's powerful fists. Buxton was not in arrest, for the case had
proved a singular "poser." It occurred during the temporary absence of
the colonel: _he_ could not well place the captain under arrest for
things he had done when acting as post commander. In obedience to his
orders from department head-quarters, he made his report of the affair,
and indicated that Captain Buxton's conduct had been inexcusable. Rayner
had done nothing but, as was proved, reluctantly obey the captain's
orders, so he could not be tried. Hayne, who had committed one of the
most serious crimes in the military catalogue,--that of drawing and
raising a weapon against an officer who was in discharge of his duty
(Rayner),--had the sympathy of the whole command, and nobody would
prefer charges against him. The general decided to have the report go up
to division head-quarters, and thence it went with its varied comments
and endorsements to Washington: and now a court of inquiry was talked
of. Meantime, poor bewildered Buxton was let severely alone. What made
him utterly miserable was the fact that in his own regiment, the ----th,
nobody spoke of it except as something that everybody knew was sure to
happen the moment he got in command. If it hadn't been that 'twould have
been something else. The only certainty was that Buxton would never lose
a chance of making an ass of himself. Instead of being furious with him,
the whole regiment--officers and men--simply ridiculed and laughed at
him. He had talked of preferring charges against Blake for
insubordination, and asked the adjutant what he thought of it. It was
the first time he had spoken to the adjutant for weeks, and the
adjutant rushed out of the office to tell the crowd to come in and "hear
Buxton's latest." It began to look as though nothing serious would ever
come of the affair, until Rayner reappeared and people saw how very ill
he was. Dr. Pease had been consulted; and it was settled that he as well
as his wife must go away for several months and have complete rest and
change. It was decided that they would leave by the 1st of May. All this
Mr. Hayne heard through his kind friend Mrs. Waldron.
One day when he first began to sit up, and before he had been out at
all, she came and sat with him in his sunshiny parlor. There had been a
silence for a moment as she looked around upon the few pictures and upon
that bareness and coldness which, do what he will, no man can eradicate
from his abiding-place until he calls in the deft and dainty hand of
woman.
"I shall be so glad when you have a wife, Mr. Hayne!" was her quiet
comment.
"So shall I, Mrs. Waldron," was the response.
"And isn't it high time we were beginning to hear of a choice? Forgive
my intrusiveness, but that was the very matter of which the major and I
were talking as he brought me over."
"There is something to be done first, Mrs. Waldron," he answered. "I
cannot offer any woman a clouded name. It is not enough that people
should begin to believe that I was innocent and my persecutors utterly
in error, if not perjured. I must be able to show who was the real
culprit, and that is not easy. The doctor and I thought we saw a way not
long ago; but it proved delusive." And he sighed deeply. "I had expected
to see the major about it the very day he got back from the court; but
we have had no chance to talk."
"Mr. Hayne," she said, impulsively, "a woman's intuition is not always
at fault. Tell me if you believe that any one on the post has any
inkling of the truth. I have a reason for asking."
"I _did_ think it possible, Mrs. Waldron. I cannot be certain now; and
it's too late, anyway."
"How, too late? What's too late?"
He paused a moment, a deeper shadow than usual on his face; then he
lifted his head and looked fairly at her:
"I should not have said that, Mrs. Waldron. It can never be too late.
But what I mean is that--just now I spoke of offering no woman a
clouded name. Even if it were unclouded, I could not offer it where I
would."
"Because you have heard of the engagement?" was the quick, eager
question. There was no instant of doubt in the woman as to where the
offering would be made, if it only could.
"I knew of the engagement only a day ago," he answered, with stern
effort at self-control. "Blake was speaking of her, and it came out all
of a sudden."
He turned his head away again. It was more than Mrs. Waldron could
stand. She leaned impetuously towards him, and put her hand on his:
"Mr. Hayne, that is no engagement of heart to heart. It is entirely a
thing of Mrs. Rayner's doing; and I _know_ it. She is
poor,--dependent,--and has been simply sold into bondage."
"And you think she cares nothing for the position, the wealth and social
advantages, this would give her? Ah, Mrs. Waldron, consider."
"I _have_ considered. Mr. Hayne, if I were a man, like you, that child
should never go back to him. And they are going next week. You _must_
get well."
It was remarked that Mr. Hayne was out surprisingly quick for a fellow
who had been so recently threatened with brain-fever. The Rayners were
to go East at once, so it was said, though the captain's leave of
absence had not yet been ordered. The colonel could grant him seven days
at any time, and he had telegraphic notification that there would be no
objection when the formal application reached the War Department. Rayner
called at the colonel's office and asked that he might be permitted to
start with his wife and sister. His second lieutenant would move in and
occupy his quarters and take care of all his personal effects during
their absence; and Lieutenant Hayne was a most thorough officer, and he
felt that in turning over his company to him he left it in excellent
hands. The colonel saw the misery in the captain's face, and he was
touched by both looks and words:
"You must not take this last affair too much to heart, Captain Rayner.
We in the ----th have known Captain Buxton so many years that with us
there is no question as to where all the blame lies. It seems, too, to
be clearly understood by Mr. Hayne. As for your previous ideas of that
officer, I consider it too delicate a matter to speak of. You must see,
however, how entirely beyond reproach his general character appears to
have been. But here's another matter: Clancy's discharge has arrived.
Does the old fellow know you had requested it?"
"No, sir," answered Rayner, with hesitation and embarrassment. "We
wanted to keep him straight, as I told you we would, and he would
probably get on a big tear if he knew his service-days were numbered. I
didn't look for its being granted for forty-eight hours yet."
"Well, he will know it before night; and no doubt he will be badly cut
up. Clancy was a fine soldier before he married that harridan of a
woman."
"She has made him a good wife since they came into the Riflers, colonel,
and has taken mighty good care of the old fellow."
"It is more than she did in the ----th, sir. She was a handsome, showy
woman when I first saw her,--before my promotion to the regiment,--and
Clancy was one of the finest soldiers in the brigade the last year of
the war. She ran through all his money, though, and in the ----th we
looked upon her as the real cause of his break-down,--especially after
her affair with that sergeant who deserted. You've heard of him,
probably. He disappeared after the Battle Butte campaign, and we hoped
he'd run off with Mrs. Clancy; but he hadn't. She was there when we got
back, big as ever, and growing ugly."
"Do you mean that Mrs. Clancy had a lover when she was in the ----th?"
"Certainly, Captain Rayner. We supposed it was commonly known. He was a
fine-looking, black-eyed, dark-haired, dashing fellow, of good
education, a great swell among the men the short time he was with us,
and Mrs. Clancy made a dead set at him from the start. He never seemed
to care for _her_ very much."
"This is something I never heard of," said Rayner, with grave face, "and
it will be a good deal of a shock to my wife, for she had arranged to
take her East with Clancy and Kate, and they were to invest their money
in some little business at her old home."
"Yes: it was mainly on the woman's account we wouldn't re-enlist Clancy
in the ----th. We could stand him, but she was too much for us,--and for
the other sergeant, too. He avoided her before we started on the
campaign, I fancy. Odd! I can't think of his name.--Billings, what was
the name of that howling swell of a sergeant who was in Hull's troop at
Battle Butte,--time Hull was killed? I mean the man that Mrs. Clancy was
said to have eloped with."
"Sergeant Gower, sir," said the adjutant, without looking up from his
work. He did look up, however, when a moment after the captain hurriedly
left the office, and he saw that Rayner's face was deathly white: it was
ghastly.
"What took Rayner off so suddenly?" said the colonel, wheeling around in
his chair.
"I don't know, sir, unless there was something to startle him in the
name."
"Why should there be?"
"There are those who think that Gower got away with more than his horse
and arms, colonel: he was not at Battle Butte, though, and that is what
made it a mystery."
"Where was he then?"
"Back with the wagon-train, sir; and he never got in sight of the Buttes
or Rayner's battalion. You know Rayner had four companies there."
"I don't see how Gower could have taken the money, if that's what you
mean, if he never came up to the Buttes: Rayner swore it was there in
Hull's original package. Then, too, how could Gower's name affect him if
he had never seen him?"
"Possibly he has heard something. Clancy has been talking."
"I have looked into that," said the colonel. "Clancy denies knowing
anything,--says he was drunk and didn't know what he was talking about."
All the same it was queer, thought the adjutant, and he greatly wanted
to see the doctor and talk with him; but by the time his office-work was
done the doctor had gone to town, and when he came back he was sent for
to the laundress's quarters, where Mrs. Clancy was in hysterics and
Michael had again been very bad.
Soon after the captain's return to his quarters, it seems, a messenger
was sent from Mrs. Rayner requesting Mrs. Clancy to come and see her at
once. She was ushered up-stairs to madame's own apartment, much to Miss
Travers's surprise, and that young lady was further astonished, when
Mrs. Clancy reappeared, nearly an hour later, to see that she had been
weeping violently. The house was in some disorder, most of the trunks
being packed and in readiness for the start, and Miss Travers was
entertaining two or three young officers and waiting for her sister to
come down to luncheon. "The boys" were lachrymose over her prospective
departure,--at least they affected to be,--and were variously sprawled
about the parlor when Mrs. Clancy descended, and the inflamed condition
of her eyes and nose became apparent to all. There was much chaff and
fun, therefore, when Mrs. Rayner finally appeared, over the supposed
affliction of the big Irishwoman at the prospect of parting with her
patroness. Miss Travers saw with singular sensations that both the
captain and her usually self-reliant sister were annoyed and embarrassed
by the topic and strove to change it; but Foster's propensity for
mimicry and his ability to imitate Mrs. Clancy's combined brogue and
sniffle proved too much for their efforts. Kate was in a royally bad
temper by the time the youngsters left the house, and when Nellie would
have made some laughing allusion to the fun the young fellows had been
having over her morning caller, she was suddenly and tartly checked
with--
"We've had too much of that already. Just understand now that you have
no time to waste, if your packing is unfinished. We start to-morrow
afternoon."
"Why, Kate! I had no idea we were to go for two days yet! Of course I
can be ready; but why did you not tell me before?"
"I did not know it--at least it was not decided--until this morning,
after the captain came back from the office. There is nothing to prevent
our going, now that he has seen the colonel."
"There was not before, Kate; for Mr. Billings told me yesterday morning,
and I told you, that the colonel had said you could start at once, and
you replied that the captain could not be ready for several days,--three
at least."
"Well, now he _is_; and that ends it. Never mind what changed his mind."
It was unsafe to trifle with Nellie Travers, as Mrs. Rayner might have
known. She saw that something had occurred to make the captain eager to
start at once; and then there was that immediate sending for Mrs.
Clancy, the long, secret talk up in Kate's room, the evident mental
disturbance of both feminines on their respective reappearances, and the
sudden announcement to her. While there could be no time to make formal
parting calls, there were still some two or three ladies in the garrison
whom she longed to see before saying adieu; and then there was Mr.
Hayne, whom she had wronged quite as bitterly as anyone else had wronged
him. He was out that day for the first time, and she longed to see him
and longed to fulfil the neglected promise. _That_ she must do at the
very least. If she could not see him, she must write, that he might
have the note before they went away. All these thoughts were rushing
through her brain as she busied herself about her little room, stowing
away dresses and dropping everything from time to time to dart into her
sister's room in answer to some querulous call. Yet never did she leave
without a quick glance from her window up and down the row. For whom was
she looking?
It was just about dusk when she heard crying down-stairs,--a child, and
apparently in the kitchen. Mrs. Rayner was with the baby, and Miss
Travers started for the stairs, calling that she would go and see what
it meant. She was down in the hall before Mrs. Rayner's imperative and
repeated calls brought her to a full stop.
"What is it?" she inquired.
"You come back here and hold baby. I know perfectly what it is. It is
Kate Clancy; and she wants me. You can do nothing."
Too late, madame! The intervening doors were opened, and in marched
cook, leading the poor little Irish girl, who was sobbing piteously.
Mrs. Rayner came down the stairs with all speed, bringing her burly son
and heir in her arms. She would have ordered Nell aloft, but what excuse
could she give? and Miss Travers was already bending over the child and
striving to still her heart-breaking cries.
"What is it? Where's your father?" demanded Mrs. Rayner.
"Oh, ma'am, I don't know. I came here to tell the captain. Shure he's
discharged, ma'am, an' his heart's broke entirely, an' mother says we're
all to go with the captain to-morrow, an' he swears he'll kill himself
before he'll go, an' I can't find him, ma'am. It's almost dark now."
"Go back and tell your mother I want her instantly. We'll find your
father. Go!" she repeated, as the child shrank and hesitated.
"Here,--the front way!" And little Kate sped away into the shadows
across the dim level of the parade.
Then the sisters faced each other. There was a fire in the younger's eye
that Mrs. Rayner would have escaped if she could.
"Kate, it is to get Clancy away from the possibility of revealing what
he knows that you have planned this sudden move, and I _know_ it," said
Miss Travers. "You need not answer."
She seized a wrap from the hat-rack and stepped to the door-way. Mrs.
Rayner threw herself after her.
"Nellie, where are you going? What will you do?"
"To Mrs. Waldron's, Kate; if need be, to Mr. Hayne's."
* * * * *
A bright fire was burning in Major Waldron's cosey parlor, where he and
his good wife were seated in earnest talk. It was just after sunset when
Mr. Hayne dropped in to pay his first visit after the few days in which
he had been confined to his quarters. He was looking thin, paler than
usual, and far more restless and eager in manner than of old. The
Waldrons welcomed him with more than usual warmth, and the major
speedily led the conversation up to the topic which was so near to his
heart.
"You and I must see the doctor and have a triangular council over this
thing, Hayne. Three heads are better than none; and if, as he suspects,
old Clancy really knows anything when he's drunk that he cannot tell
when he's sober, I shall depart from Mrs. Waldron's principles and join
the doctor in his pet scheme of getting him drunk again. '_In vino
veritas_,' you know. And we ought to be about it, too, for it won't be
long before his discharge comes, and, once away, we should be in the
lurch."
"There seems so little hope there, major. Even the colonel has called
him up and questioned him."
"Ay, very true, but always when the old sergeant was sober. It is when
drunk that Clancy's conscience pricks him to tell what he either knows
or suspects."
A light, quick footstep was heard on the piazza, the hall door opened,
and without knock or ring, bursting impetuously in upon them, there
suddenly appeared Miss Travers, her eyes dilated with excitement. At
sight of the group she stopped short, and colored to the very roots of
her shining hair.
"How glad I am to see you, Nellie!" exclaimed Mrs. Waldron, as all rose
to greet her. An embarrassed, half-distraught reply was her only answer.
She had extended both hands to the elder lady; but now, startled, almost
stunned, at finding herself in the presence of the very man she most
wanted to see, she stood with downcast eyes, irresolute. He, too, had
not stepped forward,--had not offered his hand. She raised her blue eyes
for one quick glance, and saw his pale, pain-thinned face, read anew the
story of his patience, his suffering, his heroism, and realized how she
too had wronged him and that her very awkwardness and silence might tell
him that shameful fact. It was more than she could stand.
"I came--purposely. I hoped to find you, Mr. Hayne. You--you remember
that I had something to tell you. It was about Clancy. You ought to see
him. I'm sure you ought, for he _must_ know--he or Mrs.
Clancy--something about your--your trouble; and I've just this minute
heard that they--that he's going away to-morrow; and you must find him
to-night, Mr. Hayne: indeed you must."
Who can paint her as she stood there, blushing, pleading, eager,
frightened, yet determined? Who can picture the wild emotion in his
heart, reflected in his face? He stepped quickly to her side with the
light leaping to his eyes, his hands extended as though to grasp hers;
but it was Waldron that spoke first:
"Where is he going?--how?"
"Oh, with us, major. We go to-morrow, and they go with us. My sister has
some reason--I cannot fathom it. She wants them away from here, and
Clancy's discharge came to-day. He _must_ see him first," she said,
indicating Mr. Hayne by the nod of her pretty head. "They say Clancy has
run off and got away from his wife. He doesn't want to be discharged.
They cannot find him now; but perhaps Mr. Hayne can.--Mr. Hayne, try to.
You--you must."
"Indeed we must, Hayne, and quick about it," said the major. "Now is our
chance, I verily believe. Let us get the doctor first; then little Kate
will best know where to look for Clancy. Come, man, get your overcoat."
And he hastened to the hall.
Hayne followed as though in a dream, reached the threshold, turned,
looked back, made one quick step toward Miss Travers with outstretched
hand, then checked himself as suddenly. His yearning eyes seemed
fastened on her burning face, his lips quivered with the intensity of
his emotion. She raised her eyes and gave him one quick look, half
entreaty, half command; he seemed ineffectually struggling to speak,--to
thank her. One moment of irresolution, then, without a word of any kind,
he sprang to the door. She carried his parting glance in her heart of
hearts all night long. There was no mistaking what it told.