The barrack yard was thronged as the colonel hurried out, thankful that
the terrible disaster had not been made awful by any loss of life; and
for the next hour he was one of the most active in trying to allay the
alarm, and soothing the frightened girls and their chaperones, who were
now the occupants of the quarters where the various officers' wives were
doing their best to play hostess to the torn and dishevelled beings who
had sought shelter beneath their roof.
As for the square in which the marquee had been erected, that remained a
perfect chaos till the morning, the colonel having given orders that
nothing should be touched as soon as the fire had been extinguished and
the escaping gas securely stopped where the great pipe--not the original
cause of the mischief, but that which had been broken by the explosion--
stood amongst a heap of charred relics of the supper; while, to insure
that such articles of jewellery as had been lost in the terrible
struggle should be in safety, sentries were posted, and soon after the
barrack yard was cleared of all save those who had special business
there.
Hours elapsed before the last carriage rolled away with its scared
occupants; for in the cases of those who had come from a distance the
servants had not been ordered to attend till two and three o'clock.
At last, though, there was peace, and the officers of the 205th gathered
in the mess-room to partake of a cup of coffee and a cigar before
seeking their beds, as, utterly fagged out, they sat for some time
talking over the events of the evening.
"Well, gentlemen," said the colonel, at last, "I hope you are satisfied
with our ball."
"Satisfied!" cried the major. "Sir, I should like to court-martial the
scoundrel who left that gas escaping!"
"Humph! Yes; but not a military offence," said the colonel. "Well,
doctor, you've been growing horribly rusty lately; this ought to make
you work easily and well!"
"Not my style," said the doctor. "Hysterical, frightened women and
singed dandies not my class of work! A good respectable gunshot wound,
a leg off, or a bayonet probe, if you like; but this sort of thing--bah!
Why, if it had not been for our flute-player and Sir Mark Frayne, I
should have been nowhere!"
"But where's Lacey?" said one of the officers.
"Ah, where's Adonis?" cried another.
"Poor old chap, he looked more like a chimney-sweep when he was pulled
out!"
"Yes, it was a narrow squeak for him; but I have not seen him since he
came to."
"Had a bath and gone to bed," said one of the subalterns; "and I feel as
if it would do me good."
"He was a bit scorched, one of the town doctors said."
"Here, who is waiting?" cried the colonel.
One of the servants appeared, with half-washed face, but clean hands,
and a moustache burned to a stubble.
"Go and see if Lieutenant Lacey's man is there, and send him up to his
master's quarters. Let him say that I shall be glad to know how he is;
but he is not to be disturbed if he is asleep."
"Beg pardon, sir; not asleep."
"How do you know?" said the colonel, sharply.
"I am Mr Lacey's servant, sir. He went home with two ladies, sir,
about two o'clock, sir, and hasn't come back."
"Then he can't be very bad!"
"Yes, he can!" said a deep voice, and the gentleman in question marched
up the room--blackened, with his hair scorched from the side of his
head, and one arm in a sling formed of a lady's silk scarf. "I'm
horribly bad! For goodness' sake, give me a drink!"
Almost as he uttered the words, Jerry handed him a frothing glass of
brandy and soda, which he had hurried out to prepare as soon as he saw
his master's exhausted state.
"Hah!" ejaculated Lacey, as he set down the glass and then sank into an
easy-chair.
"Your arm bad?" said the colonel, anxiously. Then to the doctor--"Will
you see to him?"
"Yes, of course," said that gentleman, who was on the alert directly.
"Come with me to your room, Lacey, my boy, and let's have a look at
you."
"Not if I know it!" said the young officer, with an energy that startled
his hearers. "I'll prescribe for myself--Rest! Here, who's got a good
cigar?"
Half a dozen were outstretched directly.
"I said _a_ cigar!" growled Lacey. "I haven't got six mouths! Hi,
Brigley, a light!"
But Jerry had left the room, and matches were offered by the nearest
neighbour.
"That fellow's always out of the way when I want him!" snarled Lacey,
savagely, as he struck a match, which went off with a loud crack, and
lit his cigar, at which he began to puff furiously.
"Your injuries are paining you, my dear Lacey."
"So would yours, if you had them!" cried the young man with a snap; and
the colonel smiled. "I don't see where the fun comes in, sir!" growled
Lacey, angrily.
"I beg your pardon, my dear fellow," cried his chief. "I really
sympathise with you, though."
"Try another way, sir," said Lacey, looking round with his eyes rolling,
and then he sat, smoked, and sipped in silence.
"See your ladies home safely?" said the colonel at last.
"Oh, yes, sir; I saw them home safely," cried the lieutenant, snatching
his cigar from his lips and dashing it into the empty grate. "Colonel,
did you ever have an old woman in hysterics on your hands?"
"Well, I have had ladies in hysterics on my hands."
"But not for an hour and a half! Oh, it was awful, and all the time
someone else so ill she could hardly stir. By George, what a scene! I
don't care. You fellows sneer at me, and say I don't know anything
about women: but I do. Old maids who have hysterics are the most
selfish wretches that ever breathed. I couldn't get away."
"Of course not," said one of the officers. "That's your fault."
"My fault! Why?"
"Being so good-looking!"
"Good-looking! Ha! ha! ha! Look at me!" cried Lacey, leaping up and
surveying his scorched face, and then his blackened uniform and general
aspect of having been badly in the wars. "Yes, I look handsome, don't
I? I say, though, I thought it was all over with me. I couldn't get
free. Who helped me out?"
"That plucky little bandsman!"
"Not Smithson?" cried the lieutenant.
"Yes, Smithson," said the colonel.
"God bless him!" cried the lieutenant in a low voice full of emotion.
"Amen!" said the colonel. "He saved the lives of that sweet girl--Miss
Deane, yours, and then Sir Mark Frayne's."
Lacey began to move towards the door; and the doctor rose, gave the
colonel a significant nod, and followed.
"Going, Lacey?" said the colonel kindly.
"Yes, sir. I'm going to see and thank that brave lad."
"No, no; not to-night--I mean this morning," said the doctor. For the
grey light was stealing in, and making the tall, blackened figure of the
lieutenant look ghastly.
"Why not?"
"Because," said the doctor, "the poor fellow is in such a state that I
cannot answer for his life."
"Then I'll go and sit by him till he's better!" said the lieutenant,
resolutely.
The colonel followed him to the door, and laid his hand on the young
man's shoulder.
"Lacey, my boy," he half-whispered, "take the doctor's advice and mine--
you are not yourself now."
"He saved our lives, sir," said the young officer. "One can't do too
much for a man like that."
"No, my dear boy, one cannot; but you heard you are better away."
Lacey looked at him inquiringly.
"You'll oblige me by not going," said the colonel quickly, "and as much
by going to your room and letting Lester see to you a bit."
"You wish it, colonel?"
"I do, Lacey."
"Will you come up with me to my quarters, Lester?" said the young man,
quietly.
"Of course, my dear boy--of course," said the doctor, and they went out
together, to be closely followed by Jerry, who reached the staircase
first, and sprung up to light candles, though they were hardly necessary
then.
"Why, colonel, he was like a lamb with you," said the major. "Who'd
have thought it of Adonis!"
"Yes, he was like a lamb with me, and I always thought it of him," said
the colonel, quietly. "We all laugh at and chaff him, but I should not
like to be the man who had done him a wrong."
"Nor the fellow who had tried to bayonet him when his blood was up?"
"No," said the colonel quickly. "Now, gentlemen, bed for me. I don't
think this old town will ever forget our ball."
He nodded, and left the mess-room, to go across the yard.
"Why, that's not the way to his quarters," said one of the officers, as
he followed his chief with his eyes toward the shadowy building in which
a faint light or two could be seen burning.
"No," said another. "I know: he's gone across to the infirmary."
"Is Frayne there?"
"No," said the major, "he's at Lindon's quarters. Chief's gone to see
how little Smithson is. Let's--no, we'll drink his health after dinner
this evening. Gentlemen, I'm for bed, or the sun will be up first."
Ten minutes later the mess-room looked grey and dismal--a pitiful
contrast to its appearance a few hours before, but the sun rose before
long as bright and glorious as ever, to come in at the infirmary window
upon Dick Smithson's scorched brow, while, in company with the hospital
attendant, the fat sergeant sat watching with a careworn expression upon
his broad, good-humoured face.
"What did he say?" whispered the attendant, after Dick had hurriedly
babbled a few words.
"Marks," said the sergeant; "Marks--he's thinking about the scars that
there'll be upon his face."