CHAPTER II.

  MARK'S MYSTERIOUS VISITOR.

  These were days of work for the plebes at West Point--days of drillingand practicing from sunrise to night, until mind and body wereexhausted. And it usually happened that most of the unfortunates werealready sound asleep by the time "tattoo" was sounded, that is, unlessthe unfortunates had been still more unfortunate, unfortunate enough tofall into the clutches of the merciless yearling. When "taps" came halfan hour later, meaning lights out and all quiet, there was usually scantneed for the round of the watchful "tac," as the tactical officer isdesignated.

  It happened so on this night. The "tac" found all quiet except for thesnoring. And, this duty over, the officer made his way to his own home;and after that there was nothing awake except the lonely sentry whomarched tirelessly up and down the halls.

  The night wore on, the moon rose and shone down in the silent area,making the shadows of the gray stone building stand out dark and black.And the clock on the guardhouse indicated the hour of eleven.

  It was not very many minutes more before there was a dark, shadowy form,stealing in by the eastern sally-port, and hugging closely the blackshadows of the wall. He paused, whoever it was, when he reached thearea, and waited, listening. The sentry's tramp grew clear and then diedout again, which meant that the sentry was back in the hallway of thebarracks, and then the shadowy form stepped out into the moonlight andran swiftly and silently across the area and sprang up the steps to theporch of the building; and there he stood and waited again until oncemore the sentry was far away--then stepped into the doorway and creptsoftly up the stairs. The strange midnight visitor was evidently someone who knew the place.

  He knew just the room he was going to, also, for he wasted not amoment's time, but stole swiftly down the hall, and stopped before oneof the doors. It was the room of Cadets Mallory and Powers.

  Doors at West Point are never locked; there are no keys. The strangevisitor crouched and listened cautiously. A sound of deep and regularbreathing came from within, and, hearing it, he softly opened the door,entered and then just as carefully shut it behind him. Having attendedto this, he crept to one of the beds. He seemed to know which one hewanted without even looking; it was Mark Mallory's. And then thestranger leaned over and gently touched the occupant.

  The occupant was sleeping soundly, for he was tired; the touch had noeffect upon him. The visitor tried again, and harder, this time withsuccess. Mark Mallory sat up in alarm.

  "Ssh! Don't make a sound," whispered the other. "I've got a message foryou. Ssh!"

  It is enough to alarm any one to be awakened out of a sound sleep insuch a manner, and at such a time, and Mark's heart was thumpingfuriously.

  "Who are you?" he whispered.

  The figure made no answer, but crept to the window, instead, where themoonlight was streaming in. And Mark recognized him instantly as one ofthe small drum orderlies he had seen about the post. Half his alarmsubsided then, and he arose and joined the boy at the window.

  "Here," said the boy. "Read it."

  And so saying, he shoved a note into the other's hand. Mark took ithurriedly, tore it open and read it.

  It took him but a moment to do so, and when he finished his face was apicture of amazement and incredulity.

  "Who gave you this?" he demanded, angrily.

  "Ssh!" whispered the boy, glancing fearfully at the bed where Texas lay."Ssh! You may wake him. She did."

  "Now, look here!" said Mark, in a recklessly loud voice, for he wasangry, believing that the boy was lying. "Now, look here! I've beenfooled with one letter this way, and I don't mean to be fooled again. Ifthis is a trap of those cadets, as sure as I'm alive, I'll report thematter to the superintendent and have you court-martialed. Remember! Andnow I give you a chance to take it back. If you tell me the truth I'lllet you go unhurt. Now, once more, who gave you this?"

  And Mark looked the trembling boy in the eye; but the boy still clung tohis story.

  "She did, indeed she did," he protested.

  "Where?" asked Mark.

  "Down at her house."

  "Why were you there?"

  "I live there."

  Mark stared at the boy for a moment more, and bit his lip inuncertainty. Then he turned away and fell to pacing up and down theroom, muttering to himself.

  "Yes," he said, "yes, I believe she wrote it. But what on earth can itmean? What on earth can be the matter?"

  Then he turned to the boy.

  "Do you know what she wants?" he inquired.

  "No, sir," whispered the other. "Only she told me to show you the way toher house."

  "Is anything the matter?"

  "I don't know; but she looked very pale."

  And Mark turned away once more and fell to pacing back and forth.

  "Shall I go?" he mused. "Shall I go? It's beyond cadet limits. If I'mcaught it means court-martial and expulsion. There's the 'blue book' onthe mantel staring at me for a warning. By jingo! I don't think I'llrisk it!"

  He turned to the boy about to refuse the request; and then suddenly cameanother thought--she knew the danger as well as he! She knew what itmeant to go beyond limits, and yet she had sent for him at this strangehour of the night, and for him, too, a comparative stranger. Surely, itmust be a desperate matter, a matter in which to fail was sheercowardice. At the same time with the thought there rose up before him avision of a certain very sweet and winsome face; and when he spoke tothe boy his answer was:

  "I'll go."

  He stepped to the desk, and wrote hastily on a piece of paper this noteto Texas:

  "I'll be back in time to fight. Explain later. Trust me.

  "MARK."

  This he laid on the bureau, and then silently but quickly put on hisclothes and stepped to the door with the boy. Mark halted for a momentand glanced about the room to make sure that all was well and that Texaswas asleep, and then he softly shut the door and turned to the boy.

  "How are we going to get out?" he demanded.

  "Come," responded the other, setting the example by creeping along ontiptoe. "Come."

  They halted again at the top of the stairway to wait until the sentryhad gone down, and then stole down and dodged outside the door just asthe latter turned and marched back. Flattened against the wall, theywaited breathlessly, while he approached nearer and nearer, and then hehalted, wheeled and went on. At the same moment the two crept quicklyacross the area and vanished in the darkness of the sally port.

  "Now," said the drum boy, as they came out on the other side, "here weare. Come on."

  Mark turned and followed him swiftly down the road toward HighlandFalls, and quiet once more reigned about the post.

  There was one thing more that needs to be mentioned. It was a verysimple incident, but it was destined to lead to a great deal. It wasmerely that a gust of wind blew in at the window of the room where Texasslept, and, seizing the sheet of paper upon which Mark had written,lifted it gently up and dropped it softly and silently behind thebureau, whither Mark had thrown the other note.

  And that was all.