CHAPTER III.
An unhappy man was Major Brooks that gloomy month of March. The newsfrom Washington _via_ Department Head-Quarters was most discouraging asto Lawrence. He was both looking and doing ill. It seemed to "break himall up," said a letter from a friend in the Adjutant-General's office,that so few could be found to urge the Secretary to do something forhim. What could they do? was the answer. Admitting that Lawrence hadbeen grievously wronged, "whose fault was it?" said the Secretary; "notmine." He had only acted on the information and recommendation ofofficers to whom this work had been intrusted. If they had erred, heshould have been informed of it before. "How could you be informed,"said the Senator who had championed the poor fellow's cause, "when youresorted to a system that would have shamed a Spaniard in the days ofthe Inquisition, or the Bourbons with their _lettres de cachet_ and theBastile?" No one dreamed that Lawrence was in danger until he was doneto death, and so, out of money, out of clothes, out of hope, health,and courage, poor Ned was fretting his heart out, while tender womenand loyal friends were keeping guard over his shabby army home andcaring for his two motherless lambs away out on the far frontier,awaiting the day when he should be restored to them.
It did not come, nor did Lawrence. An old comrade of the Sixth Corps, agallant volunteer brigade commander, then in prosperous circumstances atWashington, had given him the shelter of his home, only too gladlykeeping him in rations and cigars, as he would have done in clothes andpocket-money, but he shook his head at whiskey. "For God's sake, Ned,and for your babies' sake, leave that alone. It can't help you. Younever were a drinking man before. Don't drink now, or your nerve willgive out utterly." This and more he urged and pleaded, but Lawrence'spride seemed crushed and his heart broken. Legal advisers told hisfriends at last that restoration was impossible: his place was filled.He had only one course left if he would listen to nothing butrestoration to the army, and that was to accept a second lieutenancy andbegin over again at the bottom of the list. They broached it to him, andhe broke out into wild, derisive laughter. "Good God! do you mean that aman who has served fifteen years in the army, fought all through thewar and served as I have served, must step down from the squadroncaptaincy to ride behind the boys just out of the Point? be ranked outof quarters by my own son-in-law the next thing I know! I'll see thearmy in hell first," was his furious reply.
"No, Ned, not hell, but Texas. Take it; go back to the line, and onceyou're back in the army in any grade we'll legislate you up to themajority you deserve: see if we don't."
But Lawrence had lost all faith in promises, or in Congressional action.He turned in contempt from the proposition, and in early April came thetidings to San Antonio that he was desperately ill.
Meanwhile Mr. Hodge had lost the _prestige_ of his first appearance atWorth, and fell into the customary rut of the subaltern. People foundhim as monotonous as did the martyrs of the Upper Platte, and, fromhaving been the most sought-after of second lieutenants, he dropped backto the plane of semi-obscurity. This was galling. Hodge's stock in tradehad been the facts or fables in his possession concerning the absentCaptain Barclay, whose present whereabouts and plans were shrouded inmystery. A rumor came that he had decided not to join at all; that hewas in Washington striving to arrange a transfer; that his assignmentto the regiment and to the post where he must meet the woman who hadjilted him for a cavalry subaltern was something unforeseen and not tobe tolerated. The muster roll couldn't account for him other than aspermitted to delay three months by Special Orders No. So-and-so, WarDepartment, A.G.O., January 25, 1871. This gave Hodge unlooked-forreinforcements. A fortnight passed in March without a bid to dinneranywhere, without a request for further particulars as to Sir Galahad.So long as that interesting personage was expected any day to appear andanswer for himself, it behooved Hodge to be measurably guarded in hisstatements, to keep within the limits of his authorities; but one daythere came a letter from a lady at Department Head-Quarters to Mrs.Brooks, and before Brooks himself was made aware of the contents, hebeing at the club-room playing "pitch" and therefore beyond the pale offeminine consideration, the news was going the rounds of the garrison.
Mrs. Pelham, who was spending the winter in Washington, had written toan old and devoted friend of Major Waite's some very interesting newsabout Captain Barclay. The captain was in Washington a whole week, buthad not called on Mrs. Pelham, though she had done everything she couldthink of for him when he was wounded. (The Pelhams were then atMcPherson and near old Waite's summer camp, but no one ever heard of herladyship's ever taking the faintest interest in Barclay until after hedeveloped into a mine-owner and had been jilted by Laura Waite.) But letMrs. Pelham talk for herself, as she usually did, as well as for everyone else. "He spent the first week in February here, leaving just beforepoor Captain Lawrence came. No wonder he didn't wish to meet him! AndMrs. Waite was there, buttonholing everybody to get her pensionincreased, and wearing the costliest crape you ever saw, my dear,and--think of it!--solitaire diamond ear-rings with it! She had a roomin a house where several prominent Congressmen boarded, and was known as'the fascinating widow.' She sent to Barclay,--would you believeit?--and begged him to come to see her, and he _actually did_; and Mrs.Cutts, who lives in the same house, told me that you ought to have seenher that day,--no solitaire ear-rings or handsome crape, mind you, buttears and bombazine; and Mrs. Cutts vows that he gave her money. Thatwoman is angling for another husband, and has been ever since poorWaite's death, and if anything were to happen to Mr. Winn it's just whatLaura would be doing too. It runs in the blood, my dear. You know, andI know, that all the time she was at Omaha Barracks and the major in thefield, she--a woman with a grown son and a graduating daughter--wasdancing with the boys at the hops and riding--yes, andbuggy-riding--with bachelors like those wretches Gates and Hagadorn."Buggy-riding was the unpardonable sin in Mrs. Pelham's eyes, she being"too massive to sit in anything short of the side seat of an ambulance,"as said a regimental wit; and Mrs. Pelham looked with eyes of disfavoron women who managed to "keep their waists" as Mrs. Waite did.
"But let me tell you about Captain Barclay," continued the letter."General Corliss called to see me two evenings ago and said he heardthat Barclay was actually a millionaire,--that he had large interests inNevada mines that were proving fabulously rich. You can understand thatI wasn't at all surprised to hear that the general had intimated to Mr.Ray, of his staff, that it would be much better for him to go and servewith his regiment awhile. Ray wouldn't be an acceptable son-in-law; hehas no money and too many fascinations, and there are both the Corlissgirls, you know, to be provided for, and Miranda is already _passe_, andRay has resigned the place, and the place is vacant, for--would youbelieve it?--they say the general tendered it to Barclay, and Barclaydeclined. Why, when we were all at McPherson there wasn't anythingsatirical the Corlisses didn't say about Barclay, and now that he hasmoney they bow down to and worship him." ("Something Mrs. Pelhamwouldn't do for the world," said Mrs. Brooks to herself, with an oddsmile.) "And when the general was asked about it yesterday he couldn'tdeny having made the offer, but said the reason Captain Barclay declinedwas that he would very probably resign in a few weeks, his businessinterests being such as to render it necessary for him to leave thearmy. So, my dear, you won't have the millionaire in Texas, after all,and I fancy how deeply Laura Winn will be disappointed. No matter howmuch she cares for her husband, she wouldn't be her mother's daughter ifshe didn't try to fascinate him over again."
Fancy the comfort of having such a letter as that to read to anappreciative audience! Mrs. Brooks fled with it to Mrs. Frazier, whothought it ought not to be read,--it was too like Dorothy Pelham foranything. But Mrs. Brooks took and read it to neighbors who werechatting and sewing together and had no such scruples. And that night itwas dribbling about the post that Barclay had decided to resign, hadrefused a detail on the staff of General Corliss: somebody else wouldget Ned Lawrence's troop. Brooks heaved a sigh and said to himself hewas glad of it, and the women heaved a sigh and wis
hed he might havecome, if only for a little while, just to make things interesting: "itwould be such a novelty to have a millionaire mine-owner in garrison andactually doing duty as a captain of cavalry." Finally they began towonder what Mrs. Winn would say now, she having had nothing at all tosay.
That very evening it chanced to occur to Mr. Hodge that he had notreturned Lieutenant Winn's call (by card,--the cavalryman having droppedin when he knew the new arrival to have dropped out), and when Hodgepresented himself at the Winns' (he had spoken of his intention at messin the presence and hearing of the negro attendant, who had mentioned itwithout delay to the Winns' colored combination of cook andserving-maid, who had come over to borrow a cup of cooking sherry, itbeing too far to the sutler's, and that damsel had duly notified hermistress of the intended honor), he was shown into the dimly lightedarmy sitting-room, where, toasting her feet before the fire, satdreaming the young mistress of the establishment, who started up inapparent surprise. She had heard neither the step nor the ring. Verypossibly she was dozing, she admitted, for baby was sleeping aloft andher husband was gone. She was attired in a silken gown that Hodgedescribed somewhat later at the major's as "puffickly stunning,"--agarment that revealed the rich curves of her beautiful throat and neckand arms; women who heard wondered why she should be wearing that mostbecoming evening robe when there was not even a hop. She lookedhandsomer than the gown, said Hodge, as she rose and greeted him, hercheeks flushed, her eyes languorous and smouldering at first, thengrowing slowly brilliant. She apologized for the absence of Mr. Winn. Hewas spending much time at the office just now. "He is regimentalcommissary, you know, or at least he has been," she explained. Hodgeknew all about that, and he also knew that if what he heard about thepost was true it would have been better had Winn spent more time at theoffice before. Then Mrs. Winn was moved to be gracious. She had heard somany, many pleasant things of Mr. Hodge since his arrival. She was sohonored that he should call when he must be having so many claims on histime, so many dinner-calls to pay. She and Mr. Winn were so sorry theyhad been unable to entertain Mr. Hodge, but, until the cook they wereexpecting from San Antonio came, they were positively starving, andcould invite no one to share their scraps. "That cook has been expecteda whole year," said other women, but Mrs. Winn paraded him as the causeof her social short-comings as confidently as ever. Then Mrs. Winn wenton to speak of how much she had heard of Hodge at Omaha,--dear Omaha."What lovely times we had along the Platte in the good old days!" Hodgeblushed with joy, and preened and twittered and thought how blessed athing it was to be welcomed to the fireside of such a belle and beautyand to be remembered by her as one of the gay young bachelors at Sidney."Such wicked stories as we heard of you scapegraces from time to time,"said she, whereat Hodge looked as though he might, indeed, have beenshockingly wicked, as perhaps he had. Indeed, she feared they, the youngofficers, were "a sad lot, a sad lot," and looked up at him from underthe drooping lashes in a way that prompted him to an inspiration thatwas almost electric in its effect on him. Hodge fairly seemed tosparkle, to scintillate. "Sad! We were in despair," said he, "but thatwas when we heard of your engagement--oh, ah, the second one, I mean,"he stumbled on, for it would never do, thought he, to mention the first.
But he need have had no hesitation. Laura Winn had heard from other andobscurer sources something of the rumors floating over the post thatvery day. She had planned to drop in at the colonel's, where theFraziers entertained at dinner and music that very evening, in hopes ofhearing accidentally something definite, for Winn was one of thoseuseless husbands who never hear anything of current gossip. But womenmight not talk if they thought she wished to hear, and fate had providedher a better means. She saw here and now the opportunity and the man. Itwas Hodge who had told so much that was of vivid interest to her. It wasHodge she had been longing to meet for days, but Winn had held himaloof, and now here she had this ingenuous repository of Barclayisms allto herself until Winn should return; the chance was not to be lost.
"I love to live over those dear old days when I was a girl," she said."Friends seemed so real then, men so true, life so buoyant. Sometimes Ifind myself wishing there were more of the old friends, the old set,here. We seem--so much more to each other, don't you know, Mr. Hodge?"And Hodge felt sure "we" did, and hitched his chair a foot nearer thefire.
"Of course I was younger then, and knew so little of the world, and yet,knowing it as I do now--I can say this to you, you know, Mr. Hodge,--Icouldn't to another soul here, for you were _of_ us, you served withfather's column" (Hodge's service was limited to playing poker with"those wretches Gates and Hagadorn" and others of Waite's command on oneor two memorable occasions, and the resultant hole in his purse wasneither as broad as a church nor deep as a well, but 'twould serve)."I've often felt here as though I would give anything to see some of thedear old crowd; not that people are not very lovely here, but, you know,we army friends cling so to the old associations." And now the beautifuleyes seemed almost suffused, and Hodge waxed eloquent.
"I am thrice fortunate," said he, recalling the lines of his Maltravers,"in that I am numbered among them." And now, like Laura, he looked uponWorth as cold and dormant as compared with the kindling friendships ofthe distant Platte.
"Indeed you are!" said she. "You bring back the sweetest days of mylife, and some of the saddest. I have no one to speak to me, youknow,--of course--until you did a moment ago. Tell me, is--is his lifeso changed as--as they say it is?"
"I never saw a man so broke up," he responded. "He never smiled afteryou--after--after it was broken off, you know." Barclay's smile was asrare as a straight flush anyhow, he admitted to himself, but theassertion sounded well.
"And--of late--what have you heard of him?" she asked. And Hodge pouredforth his latest news, and added more. He, too, he said, had had aletter from an intimate friend. Captain Barclay had declared that theassignment to the Twelfth Cavalry was impossible, Texas was impossible.His business interests would necessitate his declining if, indeed, therewere no other reasons. General Corliss had tendered him the position ofaide-de-camp and made Billy Ray of the --th resign to make way for him,and the moment Barclay found that out he went to Ray and told him thewhole business was without his (Barclay's) knowledge, and sooner thandisplace him he would refuse. "Yes," said Hodge, "that's the way myfriend heard it from Ray himself. Now, if Barclay could only get adetail on McDowell's staff in California it would have suited him to atee; then he could have looked after his Nevada interests and hisWyoming pensioners too."
Did Mr. Hodge know surely about Mr. Barclay's wealth? Was it all true?he was asked.
Oh, yes, there wasn't a doubt of it, said Hodge. It was just another ofthose cases where a man had money in abundance, and yet would havegiven it all, he added, sentimentally, but here she uplifted rebukinglyher white, slim hand,--or was it warningly? for there came a quickfootfall on the porch without. The hall door opened sharply, letting ina gust of cold night wind, and, throwing off his cavalry cape with itsfaded yellow lining, Lieutenant Winn strode through the hallway into hislittle den at the rear.
"You will come and see me again," she murmured low, while yet thefootsteps resounded, "it has been so--good to see you,--so like oldtimes. We'll have to talk of other things now. Mr. Winn doesn't like oldtimes too well."
But Mr. Winn never so much as looked in the parlor door until she calledto him. Then, as she saw his face, the young wife arose with anxiety inher own.
"What is it? Where are you going--with your revolver, too? Mr. Hodge,dear."
"Oh-h! Beg pardon, Mr. Hodge. Glad to see you," was Winn's distraughtacknowledgment of the presence of the visitor, as he extended areluctant hand. "My sergeant can't be found," he went on, hurriedly."They say he's gone to Fuller's ranch, and it may be all right, but thecolonel has ordered out a patrol to fetch him back. Don't worry, Laurie;I may have to ride out with it."
And hurriedly he kissed her and bounded down the steps.
For a moment she stood in the doorway, the light from th
e hall lampshining on her dusky hair and proud, beautiful face, forgetful of theman who stood gazing at her. Then with a shiver she suddenly turned.
"It's the second time that Sergeant Marsden has been missed in just thisway, when he was most needed, and--it's so imprudent, so--and my husbandis so imprudent, so unsuspicious. Mr. Hodge," she cried, impulsively,"if you've heard anything, or if you do hear anything, about him or Mr.Winn, be a friend to me and tell me, won't you?" And there was nothingHodge would not have promised, nothing he would not have told, but thedoor of the adjoining quarters slammed, an officer came striding alongthe porch common to the double set, and the clank of a sabre was heardas he neared them.
"Winn gone?" he asked. "Don't worry, Mrs. Winn. We'll overhaul thatscoundrel before he can reach the settlements, unless----"
"But what is wrong? What has happened, Mr. Brayton?" she asked, her facewhite with dread, her heart fluttering.
"My Lord, Mrs. Winn, I beg your pardon! I supposed of course he had toldyou. Marsden's bolted. Colonel Riggs, the inspector-general, got hereto-night with Captain Barclay, instead of coming by regular stageSaturday, and Marsden lit out the moment he heard of their arrival. Ofcourse we hope Winn isn't badly bitten."
But her thoughts were of another matter now. "Captain Barclay," shefaltered, "here? Why, I--I heard----"
"Yes," shouted the young officer, as he went clattering down the steps."'Scuse me--I've got to mount at once," as an orderly came running up atthe moment with his horse. "Riggs has come, post-haste, only Barclay andone man with him besides the driver. It's lucky that Friday gang nevergot wind of it."