by Charles King
CHAPTER XXVII.
VINDICATED.
Life at Russell had lost for the time being so much of its customarygayety as to warrant Mrs. Turner's discontented descriptive of "poky."With all but three or four officers absent on campaign; without evenletters or news from them; with Mr. Gleason's tragic fate and Mr. Ray'sromantic and mysterious connection therewith, there was too much ofsolemn and shudder-inspiring element in the daily talk to renderconversation at all cheerful. All sorts of odd things had happened sincethe death of that deserter, Wolf, and Mrs. Turner was at her wit's endto make her conclusions fit together. She had by no means ceased tojump,--that saltatory satisfaction at least remained to her,--but shemissed the mark so often as to seriously impair, for a while at least,her confidence in her theories, and nothing but a series of seriousshocks could have achieved that result. She, too, had her sorrows, poorlady, for her regimental companions in number eleven had shunned hersociety to such an extent as to set the whole garrison talking about it,though it took very little to accomplish that.
To begin with, Mrs. Truscott rarely went out at all, and had deniedherself to visitors on many occasions. Mrs. Stannard and Marion were allthe companions she cared to see much of, though, to Mrs. Turner'sincredulous wrath, Mrs. Wilkins was admitted on the very days when she,herself, had called and penetrated no farther than the parlor. Mrs.Wilkins had enjoyed--we use the term advisedly--a furious quarrel withthe wife of the commanding officer, and had driven that exemplary andforgiving woman from the field in utter dismay. There had been no lovelost between them from the first, but Mrs. Wilkins had hotly resentedMrs. Whaling's lamentations over Ray's prospective conviction and hisundeniable guilt, and had given the venerable black silk a dusting thevery day that Ray was carried off to prison. Then came the electrifyingintelligence that Wolf's dying confession had completely exonerated Ray,and both Mrs. Whaling and Mrs. Turner had flown to Mrs. Stannard toassure her that neither one of them could have believed in his guilt hadit not been for the other. Mrs. Whaling was positive that she had neverspoken of him except in the love and charity she would have used towardsher own son, and nothing but Mrs. Turner's accounts of his wildness anddissipation would have shaken her faith in him for a moment. She hadalways admired his frank and fearless character, and so had "thegeneral," who was heart-broken to think he had been so outrageouslyimposed upon by Ray's enemies. Mrs. Turner vowed that she had reallyloved Mr. Ray like a brother, but that Mrs. Whaling had told her of thepositive evidence the general had against him, and so what could shethink? Mrs. Stannard listened to both with uncompromising and decidedlychilling silence, and each withdrew discomfited.
Colonel Rand spent much of the morning after Wolf's revelation inoverhauling papers with Colonel Whaling, but his visit to the ladies atnumber eleven was of unusual length and cordiality. He left only in timeto see Ray and Blake a few moments in town before taking the easterntrain. It had been Mrs. Stannard's intention to drive thither to call onMrs. Rallston, but she was too late. Mr. Green's telegraphic messagefrom Denver had warned him that Rallston was delirious with fever, andafter the rapturous interview between brother and sister that followedupon his return from Wolf's bedside, Ray had gently broken the news toher of her husband's illness, and before the coming of train time on thefollowing day Rand had obtained telegraphic authority for him to escorther to, and remain with her in, Denver. His release by the civilauthorities would have had about it something of the nature of anovation, when at noon on that day the full details of Wolf's confessionwere "spread upon the records," but by ingeniously circulating the storythat he would return to the fort at sunset, Blake managed to throw thepublic off the track. His arrest was suspended by the telegram fromdivision headquarters. Rand was ordered to come thither at once with hisdocumentary proofs of the falsity of the charges against Ray, and thelatter went quietly off to Denver with a ten days' leave, conducting hissister to her husband's bedside. He saw no one at Russell before going,but we have reason to believe that the plethoric missive he sent to Mrs.Stannard derived much of its bulk from an enclosure that was not meantfor her eyes at all, and Blake went back to Russell to the lionizing hedeserved.
But the gloom at the garrison was dispelled perforce by the arrival oftroop after troop, company after company, from east, west, and south,fast as cars could carry them,--all bound for the Black Hills to meetand support Crook, who was reported fighting his way southward throughunknown regions and unknown numbers of the red men. Nothing had beenheard even by telegraph from the --th from any source whatever since thesteamer came down to Bismarck with sick and wounded, and the news thatthey had pushed out again for the Little Missouri country the last ofAugust, and here it was beyond mid September. A whole regiment ofcavalry encamped for a day or two on the prairie, then marchednorthward. Natty artillerymen from San Francisco dropped in to pay theirrespects on their way to "the Hills;" not a day passed without thearrival of strange officers, scores of men, and squadrons of horses.Russell had suddenly blossomed into first rank as a great supply depot,and in all the excitement of greeting the new-comers, and sendingmessages and missives to the dear ones at the front, the pall of tragedywas lifted from the post. Gleason and Wolf were, alike, wellnighforgotten.
And then with sudden thrill the news tore through the post, and flashedover the wires in every direction, that a courier had ridden down fromthe northern limits of the hills bringing despatches from Crook, andannouncing that, though half starved, ragged, and practicallydismounted, the followers of the Gray Fox had reached the Belle Fourche,and would soon be able to push on to the agencies. They had dashed uponthe Sioux villages at Slim Buttes, capturing hundreds of their fatponies (and greedily eating many of them that very night), had foundthe lodges crammed with the spoil of the Custer battle, had killedseveral warriors and burned every ounce of Indian stores or provisionsthey could not use, and had two days' ringing, spirited fighting withCrazy Horse and his charging hosts among the fog wreaths and drippingcrags of those strange, picturesque upheavals; then burying their deadand bringing away their wounded, they were once more within reach ofsupplies, though it might be weeks before they could come home. "Anotherbattle and we not there," was Blake's sympathetic despatch to Ray atDenver; but now the last seemed to be recorded. Another week and lettersmight be expected. Another fortnight and it was known that all theforces were concentrating at Red Cloud to disarm the disaffected bandsnear the agencies. And then Blake and Ray, too, had both sped northwardagain to join their regiment. Ray's affairs had been summarily settledin this wise.
Rallston's illness had been severe, and Ray and Nell had been constantlyat his side. When the fever broke and consciousness returned, and thepatient realized where he was and who were his nurses, the man's remorseand shame were something pitiable. Of him, as an impartial historian, itis difficult to write, since long association with Stannard had forciblyimpressed his views as to Rallston's character. Perhaps we were asreluctant to hear of his subsequent behavior and to believe in hiscontrition as Mrs. Whaling with all her meek and lowly piety was toconceive of Ray's innocence of the various charges laid at his door;but, in the absence of proof to the contrary, we simply place beforethe patient reader Nellie Ray Rallston's own statement: that her husbandemerged from that trying illness a very different man, that he humblybegged Will's forgiveness and hers, and that when he was well enough tobe moved home he had grown so fond of Will that he could not bear tohave him out of his sight, and that he was rejoiced when orders came forWill to go to Chicago, as it enabled him to travel with them as far asOmaha. But you must remember, we feel bound to say, that she was of thatloyal loving Kentucky nature--singularly like her brother for thatmatter--that having once given itself in its entirety to the service oflover or friend, is apt to stick to it through thick and thin. We may bepardoned--we worldlings--for doubting as yet the depth and sincerity ofRallston's repentance. "When the devil was ill, the devil a saint wouldbe," etc. You know the application; but, for the time being, Mrs.Rallston went home happier than she
had been for ages.
And Ray went on to division headquarters at Chicago, wondering what onearth was up now. He was still on leave, still clamoring to be tried,that he might be cleared of those charges and allowed to rejoin hisregiment. His wound had healed, though he was still thin and worn, andhe could not bear to think that there might be any more fighting for thedear old --th and he not there.
But Rand had taken Rallston's letters and some other papers with him toChicago, as directed, and the commanding general had seen in less thanno time what an outrageous case had been built up against a youngofficer whose record up to date had been one that appealed to all hissympathies. Ever since that daring night ride Ray had been an object ofthe liveliest interest to the general,--himself the cavalry leader _parexcellence_ of his day,--and when Rand laid before him all the papers inthe case there was an eruption that made the rafters ring.
But when it came to cooling down and acting on the case, much as thegeneral might think Ray deserved a triumphant vindication at the handsof a court, there were a dozen things to make it impracticable. To beginwith, the court had been ordered before it looked so black for Crook'scommand and the Black Hills settlers, and all those infantry officerswho were on the original detail were now plodding up to Red Cloud. Thedivision was wellnigh stripped of everything but staff-officers, and ifa court _did_ meet, what a scoring it might give old Whaling and to hisown staff-officer, who took all that hearsay talk down aroundLeavenworth and never gave Ray's friends a chance. It ended in thegeneral's impetuously directing that the court be dissolved, and thatRay be ordered there post-haste. "I'll vindicate him!" he said.
And he did. Ray's pale, anxious face turned all sorts of colors when thegeneral jumped up from his chair and griped his hand like a vise, andlooked into his brave young eyes and said things to him that filled themwith tears and his soul with confusion. Ray had no words, but his heartwas full of a delight that none but soldiers know, and the lionizing hegot that day at division headquarters would have spoiled many anotherfellow. The general could, indeed, "vindicate" him. He showed him thedraft of the letters sent to the regiment, and asked with a smile if hedidn't think _that_ would do as well as the "not guilty" of a court; andthat evening Ray took the westward train so as to stop over in Omaha onenight and see Nell, and then hurry on by the Union Pacific to Cheyenne.His heart was bounding with hope, with pride, with gratitude and joy;but through it all there was a sense of something strange and new to himthat tempered every feeling of exultation. He had been tried as by fire,and humbled, softened, chastened by the fierceness of the flame. Evenbitterness and resentment seemed expelled from his soul. Ray was achanged, a graver man. All that was truthful, gallant, loyal in hisnature was there yet, but the recklessness of the past was gone.
Many letters had come to him in the few days he had spent at Denver byRallston's sick-bed, and while Mrs. Stannard had frequently written totell him how they all were, and the colonel sent a courteously-wordedexpression of his regret at the credence he had given to the statementsof a brother officer and what he termed the "misunderstandings" of thesummer, Ray was most touched at Warner's "solid" and earnest appeal tobe regarded as a friend and not as one of the opposition.
He answered promptly and cordially everything Mr. Warner wrote with asingle exception. The young adjutant was requested by Colonel Whaling toput in a word or two for the Hibernian quartermaster whom Blake had cutdead, and who was perturbed in spirit over the prospect of beingotherwise lacerated when Ray got back. Warner thought that the colonelor the quartermaster himself should make the proper _amende_ in thiscase, but the latter was a poor hand at epistolary expression, and theformer had long been a pronounced adherent of that "divine right of"commanding officers which makes the adjutant the transmitter and mediumof all correspondence involving matters of delicate or diplomaticimport. If the result be successful, all right. It was written bydirection of Colonel So and So, and is presumably his own wording. If itfail, then anybody can see that failure is due solely to the clumsy andblockheaded manipulation of the adjutant.
Mr. Warner conveyed a hope that the quartermaster might be included inthe general amnesty, but to this Ray made no response. He drew the lineat those who had been unkind to Dandy.
And now he was hurrying back to Russell to conduct a large body ofrecruits and horses up to "the Hills" to meet the regiment; and a partyof young officers had joined, many of them graduates of that very year'sclass at the Point, young fellows whom Mrs. Truscott had known well buta few months previous, when they wore the gray under Jack's tuition atsquadron drill and riding-hall work. Their regiments being in the fieldon active campaign, they abandoned much of the leave of absence due themand hastened to report for duty. Their services were most needed ingetting the recruits into shape, and here they were at Russellenthusiastic at the prospect of seeing Captain Truscott again, devotingthemselves to the ladies at his army home, and eager to a man to see andknow Ray, whose name was on every lip, whom every man of them envied,and who would arrive at noon on the morrow.
Mrs. Stannard's piazza was the scene of a levee this lovely, sunshinyautumn afternoon. She was there with Miss Sanford and Mrs. Truscott, whowas reclining in a comfortable wicker chair, and vastly enjoying thesunshine, the bracing air, and above all the merry chat of these youngtroopers, and envying them their northward march. Would they not be withJack in a fortnight? Half a dozen of the "boys" were flocking around theladies, and Blake was there sprawling over the railing as was his wont,and convulsing the assemblage every now and then with his outrageoustravesties and declamatory outbursts. Blake was in the wildest possiblespirits. He was bubbling over with fun and the milk of human kindness,except for that poor devil of a quartermaster, at whom he scowleddiabolically whenever they met. He had forgiven Mrs. Turner, who wasquick to see where the "gang" had gathered that afternoon, and was earlyon hand to lure the new victims. Already she was making a deepimpression on Mr. Corry, who was gazetted to her husband's troop, andwas fetching him farther into the meshes with every glance of her eyes.And then came Mrs. Whaling, whom Blake hastened to meet, and withelaborate genuflexions to usher into the circle, where she was speedilyseated and regaling the company with her views on the chances of thecampaign. It being the ardent desire of every cavalry lady in garrisonthat the --th should be ordered thither for winter quarters, Mrs.Whaling was full of information which "the general" had received fromconfidential sources going to prove that a great infantry post was to beestablished there, which he would command, while the cavalry remained inthe Hills until spring. Blake noted the silence among the youngofficers and the anxious look in Mrs. Truscott's face (Mrs. Stannard hadlong since ceased to be influenced by Mrs. Whaling's statements), and hedetermined on a diversion. He felt morally certain that the only"confidential" communication the veteran post commander had receivedfrom any superior in a week was the stinging rap from divisionheadquarters anent the bungle he had made in Ray's affair, and ongeneral principles he felt that he couldn't let an opportunity slip.
"Oh, come now, Mrs. Whaling, don't crush all the hopes we had ofspending the winter with you here. 'Lady, you are the cruellest shealive' if you will lead us to believe such ill report, and here we wereall rejoicing that Ray comes to-morrow."
"Oh! Mr. Ray, to be sure! and how delightful it is to think that he hasjustified all our confidence in him! He returns like--a--the Bayard ofold; _the chevalier sans peur et--et_----"
"_Sans culotte?_" suggested Blake.
"Ah, yes; thanks! Mr. Blake. As though I _could_ have forgotten it for amoment! Quite like the chevalier _sans peur et sans culotte_. Such aknightly fellow as he always was!"
"Oh, Lord, yes! _All_ nightly, especially when the luck ran his way."
"Now, Mr. Blake, how you distort my meaning!"
"Madame, you do me wrong, notorious wrong! I did but echo the words youspake a week agone. You marvel at my meaning. Nay, then, 'tis not lessstrange and weird than the tongue in which you tell of his perfections;less _bizarre_, if you _will_ hav
e French."
"Mr. Blake, you tilt at wind-mills." ("Gad! that's neat!" quoth he,_sotto voce_.) "I never said anything about a bazaar, though thatreminds me that every one of you gentlemen should go to town and dosomething for the church before you leave. The fair has been going ontwo days now, and not one of you has spent a cent there. And they soneed an organ----"
"Mrs. Whaling, tell them to have Jarley's waxworks, and you'll be Mrs.Jarley--or Mrs. Partington; I'll be John or Ike,--I don't carewhich,--and their fortune's made," said Blake, shaking with laughter;so, too, was Mrs. Stannard behind the palm-leaf fan which concealed, atleast, her face. Miss Sanford, biting her lips, looked reproachfully atBlake, and Mrs. Truscott hid her face in her hands.
"Now, _Mr._ Blake!" protested Mrs. Turner, "you never have been in townto church since your coming here, and it's shocking the way you officersneglect it. I'm sure I've offered to drive you in with me a dozentimes."
"True, fair lady; but those eminently safe animals of yours take an hourto traverse the intermediate league. I have to get up too early."
"But Mr. Ray went once; though, to be sure, Miss Sanford and Mrs.Stannard brought that about."
"Oh, yes! and came home sold. He never would have gone only he heardthat the text was to be from the Sermon on the Mount, and he thought itwas some new wrinkle in cavalry tactics."
"Mr. Blake, you are simply outrageous!" "Wretch!" "Shocking!" and avolley of like exclamations greeted this outburst. Mrs. Stannard rosefrom her chair and shook her fan at him.
"You shall not teach so irreverent a doctrine here! Mr. Ray went gladly,and was far more devout and reverential in church than some of theladies."
"Any man could be devout sitting next to Miss Sanford," he persisted;but seeing no sign of levity in her face, and that her blue eyes werebent upon him "in pity rather than anger," he abruptly changed his toneto one of melodramatic gravity.
"'Lady Clara Vere de Vere, I cannot stand and face thy frown.'
I'm not appreciated. I must betake myself to other fields. Ladies, whenI get in a gale it takes something sterner than feminine rebuke to stopme. I'll away and see Mrs. Wilkins. She likes it. If aught I've said towound thee," he continued, bowing with hand on his heart in front ofMiss Sanford, "remember, Miss De Vere, in the words of your favoriteTennyson,--
'The cold upon your old stone gates, Is not more lyin' to you than I.'"
"Did you ever know such a rattlepate?" exclaimed Mrs. Turner, as thelong legs went striding down the row, and the young officers sat gazingafter him in wonderment.
"Never," replied Mrs. Stannard; "and yet he has as true a heart and astender a nature as almost any man I know. There was no fun in him whileMr. Ray was in trouble; and no more devoted and loyal friend could hefind. I _like_ Mr. Blake, and always have liked him."
But Mrs. Whaling shook her head. "No right-principled young man couldspeak so lightly of sacred things. Ah! here comes the orderly with themail." And as she spoke the trim young soldier entered the gate carryinghis budget of letters. Mrs. Whaling stretched forth her hand to take thepacket.
"Please, ma'am," said he, "I left yours at the colonel's, and my ordersis not to give the others to anybody but them as they belongs to."
"I will distribute them here, orderly," she replied, with a superiorsmile, "as I know all these ladies and gentlemen and you do not." Shewas determined to see who received letters and from whom, if a possiblething, and she carried her point. Most of them were for the officers.Nothing came as yet from the regiment. Mrs. Truscott received two orthree letters from the East, which were not handed her until theself-appointed postmistress had scrutinized the superscriptions; so,too, she inspected the bills and billets that came to the young subs,and two letters for Miss Sanford,--one from New York, the other,addressed in a bold, vigorous hand, was from Headquarters, Division ofthe Missouri, Chicago. At this, through
"All her autumn tresses falsely brown,"
she shot sidelong daggers, indeed, as she passed it with significantsmile.
"I thought he'd write even though to-morrow would bring him herehimself," she said; and Miss Sanford bit her lip and colored far more inindignation than in confusion; but, rallying like the little heroineshe was, and bent now on baffling the schemes of the wily interloper,she quickly leaned forward and took the letter, glanced brightly at Mrs.Stannard, and exclaimed, with all the delight and _naivete_ of genuinesurprise,--
"Why, it _is_ for me, Mrs. Stannard! Now you shall not see a line of it,for you would not show me yours." And then with provoking coolness,while Grace gasped in admiration and astonishment, Marion opened andread with beaming smile her letter from Ray,--the only one he had timeto write in Chicago.
It was very brief, yet when 'twas finished she wished, with all herheart, she could escape to her own room and read it once again, all byherself. It was the first letter--in the least like it--she everreceived. It made her pulses bound, and it put her mettle to the test toturn at once to conversation with the one youth who had received noletter. It made her long for stable-call to sound that she might bealone and read it again and again, and yet it was very, very simple anddirect. The trumpets rang their signal soon enough. The young cavalrymendoffed their caps and scurried away. Mrs. Stannard, smiling knowingly,said she would take a walk with Mrs. Turner, and then the two schoolfriends were left alone.
"Maidie, what does he say?"
"Let me read it quietly, Grace dear. I _couldn't_ there."
She had not seen him since sending that very, very outspoken letter theafternoon after he was taken to Cheyenne, and the letter he had writtenin answer to that was full of gratitude for her faith in him,--full ofassurance that with such words as those to cheer him he would bear hisfurther trials as became a man, but, until fully vindicated of everycharge, he would not return to Russell and could not hope to see her;but, once freed from the odium of any and every allegation affecting hisintegrity, he should come to thank her in person for the strength andcomfort her beautiful letter had given him.
And now--he was coming. He could not wait for his own arrival, since hehad to stop over one day. The instant he left the colonel's presence hehad asked for a desk in the aide-de-camp's room, had penned a few hastylines to her first of all, had hurried with them to the Rock IslandDepot, only a few squares away, that they might catch the mail juststarting, and she--she who had proved so gallantly her faith in him, bethe first to know of his complete vindication. Ray never wrote such aletter in his life before:
"Only thirty minutes before the westward mail starts, and this moment I have come unnerved and weak from the presence of the general with the fullest vindication man could ask. In the first glow of thoughtfulness my thoughts turn instantly to you. May God bless you for the words that came to bless me in my darkest hours! May He teach me to show you--I can never tell it--the infinite value of your words to me! May He so guide my future that, henceforth, my life shall prove worthy the trust you placed in me! Until it has, in some measure, so redeemed the past, I may not say more. Only this: you, before all the world, I desire to know of my acquittal of every allegation. To-morrow I shall hope to see you before we march, for I shall go at once to the regiment. There may be little opportunity for words even if I dared trust myself to speak. Last time, in laughing talk, it was agreed that I should wear your colors; but now, even your will would be powerless to prevent me, for my heart and soul are pledged to them forever.
"WILLIAM P. RAY."
Nor did he mean to "say more" when writing that letter. He meant thatshe--he did not care _who_ else--should know that the thought of herfriendship and faith had been his mainstay in the troubles which had sosuddenly involved his life and wellnigh wrecked him. He wanted her toknow, and he did not care who knew, that from this time forth he was herknight, sworn to her service, and bound to her by a tie he could notbreak if he would. Seldom as they had met, there had been from the firsta halo of romanc
e about their association, and she had come to be, evenbefore he could realize it, the one fair woman in whom was centred thefealty and devotion of his loyal nature. He dare not hope: he would notexpect that one like her could so soon, so unsought, unwooed, havelearned to look upon him as anything more than a friend whose loyalty toGrace, her one intimate, and whose friendship for Mrs. Stannard hadconspired to make him an object of interest in their daily talk. Withthe humility of true manhood he well knew that his name, clouded withthe recklessness and debts of his past life, was not one that he darelay at her feet; but this, too, he knew, and knew well, and would havefaced the world to own it as fearlessly as he faced a foe: he lovedher, and, as yet, could ask nothing in return.
And yet, when Blake met him at the station next day, and they droverapidly out over the hard prairie roads, and he saw again the whitepeaks in the south and the sunlight dancing over the distant slopes, andthe flag waving aloft over the dingy brown buildings of the post, andhis heart beat with eager joy at thought of seeing her again, oftouching that soft white hand and looking down into the depths of herclear, truthful eyes, and studying the face that, lovely always, hadgrown exquisite in beauty to him, he wondered how he could meet her, howhe _could_ speak to her, and control the longing to implore her tooverlook his past life with its follies and its sins, and let him proveto her how strong and steadfast he could be if she would but bid himhope. And then he set his teeth and tossed his head,--the old Ray-likegesture,--and vowed that without a single word of hope she should seehow the faith of "one fair woman" had changed his whole life. He couldhardly answer Blake's eager, enthusiastic talk. He could hardly hearwhat he was saying until he caught the words "To-morrow morning, fourhundred recruits, five hundred horses, and you go in command."
So soon, then? And yet 'twas what he had prayed for. He was eager to seethe dear old regiment again. He knew well how many faces of officers andmen would light up in welcome at his coming. In all the misery of thepast month he had almost forgotten that in July he was with them at thefront. How very far away that night ride seemed,--the ride that Wayne'sand Truscott's fellows at least had not forgotten! It made him think ofDandy, and he questioned eagerly if Dandy were still there.
"Still there? You bet he is, Billy! Hogan's heart will break if youdon't say first thing that he looks better than he ever did in hislife."
"Why! How is it that Hogan has him again? I don't understand."
"Why? You can't go without a horse, man, and as commanding officer ofthe whole crowd you would be entitled to your choice. I thought you'drather have Dandy, and so said. You can take another if you want to;there are lots of them, and beauties. Now we're to go to Mrs. Stannard'sfor dinner at once. Shall we stop and knock off the dust?"
They were whirling in at the fort gate, the gate through which he hadlast driven a prisoner in the grasp of the law. The broad parade wascovered with squads of recruits drilling busily and with knots of youngofficers, who looked eagerly at Blake and the dark-eyed young gentlemanin gray by his side. Along the row were many of the ladies of thegarrison and romping children, all of whom nodded and smiled and wavedtheir hands as they flashed by.
"Quick, Billy," said Blake, between his set teeth. "Out with you andinto the house, unless you want to be snared by Mrs. Turner. Oh, by theLord! Here she comes, and Mrs. Whaling, too. Scoot!"
And Ray sprang from the light wagon, and lifting his hat in salute tothe ladies who were hastening down the walk, he darted into thehouse,--into the cool, darkened rooms which he had last seen when therewas not a spark of comfort, of hope, or love in a world of blackdespair. And now, here was Hogan,--all joy and welcome and delight.There lay the "swell" undress uniform, his cap and gloves and littlewalking switch, all in readiness on the bed, and not until he becameaccustomed to the dim light after the glare of the Wyoming sun, and themists of emotion had begun to clear away, could he see that Hogan'sblue-gray eyes were wet, and that he was ready to break down again withsheer ecstasy. Ray laughed, the real old, joyous, ringing laugh again,as he gripped the faithful Irishman's hand.
"Why, Hogan, old fellow. It's good to see you again; and so Dandy ishere, too, is he?"
"He is, sir, and it's he that'll be glad to have you on his back again.Oh, murther! Did the lootenant tell ye how he dumped the quarthermastherin the creek? He _didn't_?----"
"Come, Billy. No time to lose. Mrs. Stannard's waiting for you. She hadearly dinner, as there's to be a farewell hop to-night, and I've seenthe colonel and you needn't report until afterwards. Come, man," calledBlake, hurrying in; and so Hogan's ecstasies were cut short, and in afew moments more Mrs. Stannard's beaming face welcomed them at the door,and both her hands were cordially clasping Ray's, and yet--somehow,drawing him in and passing him along into the little parlor, while sheherself remained volubly chatting with Blake, who did not pass theportals with any rapidity at all. Ray never could realize, much lessexplain it, but in another moment he was standing in the little parlor,and Marion Sanford, lovely in her grace and beauty, lovely in her shylywelcoming smile, lovely in the soft flush that had mantled her bonnyface, was slowly rising from her chair to welcome him. All she said was"Mr. Ray!" as with trembling hands he quickly seized the cool, white,plump little member that was half extended to greet him, and--he couldnot speak; he knew not what to say or do; he longed for the first timein his life to kneel at a woman's feet and press her hand to his lips,but that would be an unwarrantable demonstration in these conventionaldays. He simply bowed low, held it one lingering moment in bothhis,--she must have felt their eager trembling,--and then, without thekiss for which his soul was longing, reluctantly let it go and lookedonce into her eyes.
"Miss--Marion, I--_cannot_ tell you how glad I am to see you!"Low-toned, heartfelt, eager, they were all he dare say. He meant to betrue to his resolve, and to prove his worth and his gratitude bysomething better than words. And for once at least in his gallantdebonair life, Ray was mute and at a loss in a woman's presence. He wasindeed conquered,--heart and soul.
A delightful dinner they had, that little _partie carree_; Mrs. Truscotthad declined, because she said one more woman would spoil it all, andshe wanted to write to Jack. And then Ray had to go and see the coloneland have a long talk with him about the big command he was to take northon the morrow, and to shake hands gravely with the embarrassed veteran,and cordially and gladly with Warner, and to welcome the dozen handsome,soldierly, enthusiastic young graduates, who came in a body to call andpay their respects and tell their young commander how their recruitcompanies were doing; and then there were a host of other affairs toattend to, and an inspection of all the five hundred horses that were tobear them northward in the morning, and afterwards the four hundredrecruits who were to go to the cavalry regiments with him. And then cameretreat parade, and the solemn dinner with the colonel and his amiablebetter half, a dinner which seemed interminable, but which was as much aduty as attending roll-call, and so it was late when he could get intofull-dress uniform and go over to the hop and see her once again.Warner, lucky devil, was to be her escort, and the young officers wouldhave taken every dance but for the waltz he found courage to ask for atdinner. How he rebelled at the idea of having to escort Mrs. Whaling!Still, it was all part of his self-imposed penance, thought he, with agrave, quiet smile, as Hogan was helping him to dress, and the strainsof the dance music came floating witchingly over the parade. He had onlytime to see Dandy one moment, to pet and fondle him and praise hisbeautiful condition (to Hogan's delight), and then, just as tattoo wassounding, there came into the room the quartermaster's clerk with somepapers for his signature.
"What are these?" he asked in surprise. "Requisition for forage for oneprivate horse, the property of First Lieutenant William P. Ray, --thCavalry. Why, man! I own no horse."
"Them's the quartermaster's orders, sir. Lieutenant Blake got permissionto buy the horse. It's Dandy, sir, but he said as how it was yours, andyou'd sign the papers directly you got back. The forage was issued onthat understanding."
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p; "Shure it's all thrue, sir," said Hogan. "Dandy was bought last week,sir, and I thought as how Mr. Blake had told you."
Ray said no word more. His eyes were filling; he signed the papers,finished dressing in silence, escorted Mrs. Whaling with entirecivility, and never heard a word she said though she talked volublyevery inch of the way; and once at the hop-room and he could break loosefrom Mrs. Turner, who seized him to upbraid him for not stopping tospeak to her, and to tell him she had saved three dances expressly forhim, and she had such a host of things she wanted to tell him, and shehad been hearing such a host of things about him, etc., etc., he foundBlake and caught him by the sleeve.
"No dodging now, Blakey. _Who_ bought Dandy? Who gave him to me?"
"Well--dang it! _I_ did. Haven't I a right to?"
"No, old man; and, forgive my saying it, you and I cannot afford suchpresents. What was he appraised at?"
"Oh, they fixed it low; because he was to be yours, you know. I got himfor two hundred."
"But, Blake, you hadn't ten dollars when I went away. I know full wellhow much I owe you in this matter. Bless you, old man! But--the truthnow. You can afford to tell me when I say I _must_ know before it comesto saying good-night to her. What had Miss Sanford to do with it?"
"Everything, Billy."