CHAPTER V.
A MIDNIGHT INSPECTION.
There was a sense of constraint among the occupants of Colonel Stanley'scarriage as they were driven back to the Point. They had been calling onold friends of his among the pretty villas below the Falls; had beenchatting joyously until that sudden swerve that pitched the colonel'shat and Miriam's fan into the dust, and the veteran cavalryman could notaccount for the lull that followed. Miriam had instantly grasped thesituation. All her father's stories of cadet days had enabled her tounderstand at once that here was a cadet--a classmate ofPhilip's--"running it" in disguise. Mr. Lee, of course, needed noinformation on the subject. What she hoped was, that he had not seen;but the cloud on his frank, handsome face still hovered there, and sheknew him too well not to see that he understood everything. And now whatwas his duty? Something told her that an inspection of barracks would bemade immediately upon his return to the Point, and in that way the nameof the absentee be discovered. She knew the regulation every cadet wasexpected to obey and every officer on honor to enforce. She knew thatevery cadet found absent from his quarters after taps was called upon bythe commandant for prompt account of his whereabouts, and if unable tosay that he was on cadet limits during the period of his absence,dismissal stared him in the face.
The colonel did most of the talking on the way back to the south gate.Once within the portals he called to the driver to stop at the Mess."I'm thirsty," said the jovial warrior, "and I want a julep and a freshcigar. You, too, might have a claret punch, Mimi; you are drooping alittle to-night. What is it, daughter,--tired?"
"Yes, tired and a little headachy." Then sudden thought occurs to her."If you don't mind I think I will go right on to the hotel. Then you andMr. Lee can enjoy your cigars at leisure." She knows well that RomneyLee is just the last man to let her drive on unescorted. She can holdhim ten or fifteen minutes, at least, and by that time if the recklessboy down the road has taken warning and scurried back he can reach thebarracks before inspection is made.
"Indeed, Miss Miriam, I'm not to be disposed of so summarily," hepromptly answers. "I'll see you safely to the hotel. You'll excuse me,colonel?"
"Certainly, certainly, Lee. I suppose I'll see you later," responds theveteran. They leave him at the Mess and resume their way, and Lee takesthe vacated seat by her side. There is something he longs to say toher,--something that has been quivering on his lips and throbbing at hisheart for many a long day. She is a queenly woman,--this dark-eyed,stately army girl. It is only two years since, her school-days finished,she has returned to her father's roof on the far frontier and resumedthe gay garrison life that so charmed her when a child. _Then_ a lovingmother had been her guide, but during her long sojourn at school theblow had fallen that so wrenched her father's heart and left hermotherless. Since her graduation she alone has been the joy of the oldsoldier's home, and sunshine and beauty have again gladdened his life.She would be less than woman did she not know that here now was anothersoldier, brave, courteous, and gentle, who longed to win her from thathome to his own,--to call her by the sacred name of wife. She knew howher father trusted and Phil looked up to him. She knew that down in herown heart of hearts there was pleading for him even now, but as yet noword has been spoken. She is not the girl to signal, "speak, and theprize is yours." He has looked in vain for a symptom that bids him hopefor more than loyal friendship.
But to-night as they reach the brightly-lighted piazza at Craney's it isshe who bids him stay.
"Don't go just yet," she falters.
"I feared you were tired and wished to go to your room," he answers,gently.
"Would you mind asking if there are letters for me?" she says. It isanything to gain time, and he goes at her behest, but--oh, lucklessfate!--'tis a false move.
She sees him stride away through the groups on the piazza; sees thecommandant meet him with one of his assistants; sees that there isearnest consultation in low tone, and that then the others hasten downthe steps and disappear in the darkness. She hears him say, "I'll followin a moment, sir," and something tells her that what she dreads has cometo pass. Presently he returns to her with the information that there areno letters; then raises his cap, and, in the old Southern and cadetfashion, extends his hand.
"You are not going, Mr. Lee?" again she falters.
"I have to, Miss Stanley."
Slowly she puts forth her hand and lays it in his.
"I--I wish you did not have to go. _Tell_ me," she says, impulsively,imploringly, "are you going to inspect?"
He bows his head.
"It is already ordered, Miss Miriam," he says; "I must go at once.Good-night."
Dazed and distressed she turns at once, and is confronted by a pallidlittle maid with wild, blue eyes.
"Oh, Miss Stanley!" is the wail that greets her. "I could not helphearing, and--if it should be Willy!"
"Come with me, Nannie," she whispers, as her arm enfolds her. "Come tomy room."
Meantime, there has been a breeze at the barracks. A batch of yearlings,by way of celebrating their release from plebedom, have hit on atime-honored scheme. Just about the same moment that disclosed to theeyes of Lieutenant Lee the class ring gleaming on the finger of thatnattily-dressed young civilian, his comrade, the dozing officer incharge, was started to his feet by a thunder-clap, a vivid flash thatlighted up the whole area of barracks, and an explosion that rattled theplaster in the guard-house chimneys. One thing the commandant wouldn'tstand was disorder after "taps," and, in accordance with strictinstructions, Lieutenant Lawrence sent a drummer-boy at once to find thecolonel and tell him what had taken place, while he himself stirred upthe cadet officer of the day and began an investigation. Half the corpsby this time were up and chuckling with glee at their darkened windows;and as these subdued but still audible demonstrations of sympathy andsatisfaction did not cease on his arrival, the colonel promptly sent forhis entire force of assistants to conduct the inspection alreadyordered. Already one or two "bull's-eyes" were flitting out from theofficers' angle.
But the piece of boyish mischief that brings such keen delight to theyoungsters in the battalion strikes terror to the heart of PhilipStanley. He knows all too well that an immediate inspection will be theresult, and then, what is to become of McKay? With keen anxiety, hegoes to the hall window overlooking the area, and watches the course ofevents. A peep into McKay's room shows that he is still absent and thathis room-mate, if disturbed at all by the "yearling fireworks," has goneto sleep again. Stanley sees the commandant stride under the gas-lamp inthe area; sees the gathering of the "bull's-eyes," and his heartwell-nigh fails him. Still he watches until there can be no doubt thatthe inspection is already begun. Then, half credulous, all delighted, henotes that it is not Mr. Lee, but young Mr. Lawrence, the officer incharge, who is coming straight towards "B" Company, lantern in hand. Notwaiting for the coming of the former, the colonel has directed anotherofficer--not a company commander--to inspect for him.
There is but one way to save Billy now.
In less than half a minute Stanley has darted into McKay's room; hasslung his chevroned coat under the bed; has slipped beneath the sheetand coverlet, and now, breathlessly, he listens. He hears the inspectormoving from room to room on the ground floor; hears him spring up theiron stair; hears him enter his own,--the tower room at the north end ofthe hall,--and there he stops, surprised, evidently, to find CadetCaptain Stanley absent from his quarters. Then his steps are heardagain. He enters the opposite room at the north end. That is all right!and now he's coming here. "Now for it!" says Stanley to himself, as hethrows his white-sleeved arm over his head just as he has so often seenBilly do, and turning his face to the wall, burrows deep in the pillowand pulls the sheet well up to his chin. The door softly opens; the"bull's-eye" flashes its gleam first on one bed, then on the other. "Allright here," is the inspector's mental verdict as he pops out againsuddenly as he entered. Billy McKay, the scapegrace, is safe and Stanleyhas time to think over the situation.
At the very
worst, as he will be able to say he was "visiting inbarracks" when found absent, his own punishment will not be serious. Butthis is not what troubles him. Demerit for the graduating class ceasesto count after the 1st of June, and the individual sense of honor andduty is about the only restraint against lapses of discipline. Stanleyhates to think that others may now believe him deaf to this obligation.He would far rather have had this happen when demerit and "confinements"in due proportion had been his award, but there is no use repining. Itis a sacrifice to save--her brother.
When half an hour later his classmate, the officer of the day, entersthe tower room in search of him, Stanley is there and calmly says, "Iwas visiting in barracks," in answer to his question; and finally, whenmorning comes, Mr. Billy McKay nearly sleeps through reveille as aconsequence of his night-prowling; but his absence, despite thesimultaneous inspection of every company in barracks, has not beendetected. With one exception every bed has had its apparently soundlysleeping occupant. The young scamps who caused all the trouble haveescaped scot-free, and the corps can hardly believe their own ears, andBilly McKay is stunned and perplexed when it is noised abroad that theonly man "hived absent" was the captain of Company "B."
It so happens that both times he goes to find Stanley that day he misseshim. "The commandant sent for him an hour ago," says Mr. McFarland, hisroom-mate, "and I'm blessed if I know what keeps him. Something aboutlast night's doings, I'm afraid."
This, in itself, is enough to make him worry, but the next thing hehears is worse. Just at evening call to quarters, Jim Burton comes tohis room.
"Have you heard anything about this report of Stanley's last night?" heasks, and McKay, ordinarily so frank, is guarded now in his reply. Forhalf an hour he has been pacing his room alone. McFarland's revelationshave set him to thinking. It is evident that the colonel's suspicionsare aroused. It is probable that it is known that some cadet was"running it" the night before. From the simple fact that he is notalready in arrest he knows that Mr. Lee did not recognize him, yet thesecret has leaked out in some way, and an effort is being made todiscover the culprit. Already he has begun to wonder if the game wasreally worth the candle. He saw her, 'tis true, and had half an hour'swhispered chat with her, interrupted not infrequently by giggling andimpetuous rushes from the other girls. They had sworn melodramaticallynever to reveal that it was he who came, but Billy begins to have hisdoubts. "It ends my career if I'm found out," he reflects, "whereas theycan't do much to Stan for visiting." And thus communing with himself, hehas decided to guard his secret against all comers,--at least for thepresent. And so he is non-committal in his reply to Burton.
"What about it?" he asks.
"Why, it's simply this, Billy: Little Magee, the fifer, is on orderlyduty to-day, and he heard much of the talk, and I got it out of him.Somebody was running it last night, and was seen down by Cozzens's gate.Stanley was the only absentee, hence Stanley would naturally be the mansuspected, but he says he wasn't out of the barracks. The conclusion isinevitable that he was filling the other fellow's place, and the colonelis hopping mad. It looks as though there were collusion between them.Now, Billy, all I've got to say is that the man he's shielding ought tostep forward and relieve him at once. There comes the sentry and I mustgo."
Relieve him? Yes; but what means that for me? thinks poor McKay.Dismissal; a heart break for mother. No! It is too much to face; he mustthink it over. He never goes near Stanley all that night. He fears tomeet him, or the morrow. His heart misgives him when he is told thatthere has been a long conference in the office. He turns white withapprehension when they fall in for parade, and he notes that it isPhillips, their first lieutenant, who draws sword and takes command ofthe company; but a few moments later his heart gives one wild bound,then seems to sink into the ground beneath his feet, when the adjutantdrops the point of his sword, lets it dangle by the gold knot at hiswrist, whips a folded paper from his sash, and far over the plain hisclear young voice proclaims the stern order:
"Cadet Captain Stanley is hereby placed in arrest and confined to hisquarters. Charge--conniving at concealing the absence of a cadet frominspection after 'taps,' eleven--eleven-fifteen P.M., on the 7thinstant.
"By order of Lieutenant-Colonel Putnam."