Marion's Faith.

  CHAPTER XVI.

  HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS.

  Some strange things had been happening at Russell. Among others themidnight serenade at Mrs. Truscott's had been repeated. Miss Sanford andMrs. Truscott both heard it this time, and when Mrs. Truscott would havegone to the window to peep and see who it was who sang so delightfully,Miss Sanford restrained her, quietly saying that this was his secondvisit, and she knew it to be Sergeant Wolf. Mrs. Turner and otherladies, eagerly and naturally curious to find out who it was thatserenaded one house in the garrison twice, and similarly honored noothers, had plied Mrs. Truscott with questions. It was agreed that theyshould tell Mrs. Stannard and seek her advice, but avoid all talk withothers. Such resolutions are all very well, but rather impracticable inview of the indomitable energy with which the sex will pursue a train ofinquiry. It was delightfully romantic, said the ladies, delightfullysensational some of them thought, and their theory was that some onemust be paying his devotions in this way to Miss Sanford, which wouldaccount for his total obliviousness to the charms of others--married andsingle. Mr. Gleason, when first questioned, had assumed that air ofconscious negation, of confirmatory disclaimer, which is calculated toimpress the hearer with the belief that, despite denial, he wasdeserving the soft impeachment. Gleason would gladly have assumed theresponsibility. For a whole day he was the hero, to many feminine minds,of the serenades, and the recipient of a dozen warm invitations to comeand sing for them that evening; but before nightfall one theory receiveda shock which was followed in an hour by another. The first was whenMrs. Whaling placidly asserted that she knew all about the serenades.That while the supposed unknown had honored Miss Sanford's window twice,it was getting to be an old story at the colonel's, as the troubadourhad appeared under her Cecilia's window almost every night for--oh, shedidn't know how long. Cecilia had blushingly confessed that morning, andshe, Mrs. Whaling, had frequently heard his tinkling guitar and sweettenor at odd times. Now, among the infantry ladies it was an older storythat fair Cecilia had a way of arrogating to herself attentions neverintended for her, and of having a fertility of invention which enabledher at a moment's notice to discount any story of devotions to anothergirl with exuberant descriptions of others more intense of which she wasthe prior object. Any statement of her sainted child was promptly backedby her adoring mother, and, well, there was disbelief, not loud butdeep, of this statement among the infantry ladies. As for "ours,"--Mrs.Stannard listened in silence but with glistening eyes; Mrs. Truscott andMiss Sanford with evident relief; Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Wilkins withexclamatory interest.

  The second shock came when a party of ladies, Miss Cecilia Whaling beingof the number, alluded to Mr. Gleason as the probable Manrico, and thisfor the purpose of "drawing out" Mrs. Turner. "Nonsense!" said Mrs.Turner. "Mr. Gleason has no more voice than a frog. He thinks he cansing, but--you just ought to hear him."

  "Why, but, Mrs. _Turner_," said one of the fair advocates, eager tosustain the theory she advanced, "Mr. Gleason as much as admitted thathe was the man."

  "He? of course he would! Mr. Gleason imagines there is no accomplishmenthe does not possess. If you need conviction ask him to sing."

  Ah, me! And this was the same lady who so vehemently stood up forGleason in the days when he was her devotee--before she discovered thatpoker had attractions for him before which her own could but "pale theirineffectual fires. _Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?_"

  If it wasn't Gleason, then, who was it? That was what the ladiesdemanded to know,--Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Wilkins being as determined astheir sisters of the infantry. It was evident all too soon that thesubject annoyed and embarrassed Mrs. Truscott. She colored painfullywhen it was mentioned in her presence. This only whetted the zeal andinquisitiveness of the inquisitors. In one form or other it wasconstantly being brought up in her presence, and her every look andgesture was narrowly scanned. Mrs. Turner grew wild with curiosity. Herewas a mystery indeed! From Mrs. Stannard she could extract nothing. FromMiss Sanford she received smiling, gracious treatment at all times, butnothing tangible in the way of information. She almost made up her mindto be gracious to Mr. Gleason, to be enticing, in fact; but before herwiles could take effect other developments had rendered that courseimpracticable.

  Gleason himself, as we have seen, had taken prompt measures to satisfyhimself as to the identity of the serenader. His next step was toinstitute inquiries as to just what was meant by these demonstrations onpart of the sergeant. Insidious questions were propounded to Mrs.Stannard, Mrs. Truscott, and Miss Sanford, only to mystify him the more.They would say nothing to enlighten him; but he plainly saw that eachone of the three was conscious that Wolf was the midnight visitor, andthat two of the three were in possession of knowledge with regard to themysterious soldier which he could not fathom. He took to studying Wolf;sent for him frequently; had long talks with him ostensibly as to hisduties with recruits, but began to "draw him out" as to his past. All hecould learn was that he had come to this country determined to enlist,had served a few months with Truscott at the Point, and had secured atransfer because he wanted active service. He declined to tell what hadbeen his connections or his life before coming to our shores, but he wasevidently a man of education and refinement; he was an admirablehorseman, swordsman, and drill-master; he had evidently been trained forthe military profession. Now, how was it that he had so readily accededto the detail which kept him on duty at Russell, when, if he so wantedactive service, he could have been sent with the regiment? Gleason's oneinterpretation of that was that the sergeant "loved, alas, above hisstation." It behooved him now to find out which of the ladies atTruscott's had inspired this romantic passion. It occurred to him thatthe discovery might be made very useful. He was plainly losing groundthere. Invitations to tea and dinner had not been forthcoming sinceTruscott's squadron marched away, and his efforts to see Miss Sanfordalone had been frustrated. Having secured the detail which kept him atthe post while the regiment was out roughing it, he relaxed theassiduity of his attentions to Mrs. Whaling, but kept up his hand withthe old colonel through the medium of pool and billiards, though he lostless frequently. He was always having confidential chats with thecolonel, and when Captain Buxton came through on his way to catch theregiment, three days after Ray's departure, Gleason took him to see thecolonel, and the three were closeted for some time together. It worriedMrs. Stannard, who felt sure there was mischief brewing, and she sowrote to the major, who tackled Buxton the moment he joined withquestions about Ray, and Buxton was dumb as Sam Weller's drum with ahole in it. Ray was there and "chipper" as a cricket. Everybody notedhow blithe, buoyant, and energetic he was, but this very trait preventedStannard's having more than one talk with him before the separation ofWayne's command from the regiment. Ray was off on scouts from morningtill night. Stannard frankly told him how worried he had been, and Raylooked amazed, declaring he had never been more temperate, and that hisaccounts were straight as a string. He had played billiards but had nottouched a card.

  When told of the allegation that he had been incessantly with Rallston,and had cut loose from Buxton and Gleason, Ray replied that it wasincomprehensible to him how any man who knew Buxton and Gleason couldblame him for that. He never spoke to Gleason, and as the two werealways together, he had no wish to embarrass their good times. He waswith Rallston, his brother-in-law, who had been most kind, hospitable,and jolly; but Ray went on to say he found that Rallston tried to besharp in palming off some inferior horses upon them, and he had blockedit. This had caused a "split," so to speak, but nothing of consequence,as he had immediately started to rejoin. More than this there was notime to talk of. Ray went with Wayne, Stannard with the --th, and theysaw nothing more of each other for many a long day. Meantime, Gleasonwas getting in his work. Stannard had written briefly to his wife totell her what Ray had said, but she was a keen judge of character, andshe could not but note the reticence and evident embarrassment of theyoung adjutant at Russell--a courteous and high-minded fellow--whenevershe mentioned Ray's na
me.

  Failing in his effort to extract information from Sergeant Wolf, Gleasonchanged his methods. He began worrying him, restricting his movements invarious ways, and hampering him with corrections and suggestions. Oneday a bandsman, who was excellent as a clarionet- and violin-player,took his discharge-papers on expiration of term of service, and thebandmaster appeared at the adjutant's office with Sergeant Wolf toannounce that the sergeant was even a better musician than thedischarged man, and was desirous of giving up his "lance" rank andentering the band. Colonel Whaling and his adjutant were delighted tomake a temporary transfer to meet the case and to write to Mr. Billingsfor regimental sanction. All too late, Gleason heard of and tried tostop it. It took Wolf out of his control and compelled him to resort towatching him. He had so palpably given it to be understood that _he_ wasthe sweet singer who had entranced the garrison in his midnightserenades that Gleason now felt he could not go to the adjutant and tellhim that Wolf was the man, and that he must pen him up at night. Indeed,he rather wanted to have more of the serenading. He sniffed a scandal,and in his resentment at Mrs. Truscott's evident avoidance of him andMiss Sanford's serene indifference, he was beginning to feel that hecould welcome anything that would besmirch their names or cloud theirdomestic peace. From his soldier servant he learned that Wolf spenthours in writing letters, most of which he burned or tore up; that heheld himself aloof from the bandsmen, and was trying to get a littleroom to himself. Every night when he was officer of the day, andoccasionally when he was not, Gleason patrolled that back fence insearch of Wolf, and one night he was rewarded. He sprang suddenly fromhis hiding-place, and the soldier turned and ran like a deer, distancingGleason in no time; but in his flight he had dropped a letter. Gleasoncould hardly believe his eyes when he saw it lying there upon theground. It bore no superscription, but in three minutes the lieutenanthad rushed to his quarters, locked the doors, and shut himself up withhis prize. The family next door was startled by the shout of triumph anddelight with which he read the last lines. He almost kissed the letterin his ecstasy. He hardly slept that night from excitement, and it wasthe very next morning that Russell was electrified by the telegraphicnews that the --th had had sharp fighting; that the main body of theregiment, early in the morning three days previous, had met and drivenback to the reservation a large force of Cheyennes seeking to joinSitting Bull; that Captain Wayne's squadron had been surrounded and cutoff by others of the same tribe, and rescued by Truscott's squadron atthe same instant that the fight was going on at the War Bonnet; thatWayne's people would undoubtedly have been massacred to a man--as theirammunition was spent--but for the heroism of Ray, who had run thegauntlet through the Cheyennes all alone in the darkness, foundTruscott's squadron going rapidly away in another direction, turned himto the rescue just in the nick of time, and now, weak and wounded, wasbeing sent in to Russell; that there had been several men killed, quitea number wounded, and that among these latter were Blake, Wayne, andDana; and that Blake, too, would be sent to Russell. Furtherparticulars came every hour or two. Every report had somethingadditional to say of Ray's valor, and though he ground his teeth in rageat the thought of Ray's temporary exaltation, Gleason was philosopherenough to know that no man was long a hero in garrison life, and so tookadvantage of the excitement to go and besiege the ladies withcongratulations. How could they exclude him at such a time? Grace was inan ecstasy of pride and joy over her Jack's splendid charge, and MarionSanford, who gloried in deeds of valor, sat wondering if it were reallytrue that she knew the man whose name was on every lip, gallant, daringRay,--that--that even then, as Truscott wired them, he never forgot hewas riding for her colors.

  But it was delicious to hear Gleason: "I cannot rejoice too much,ladies, that it was the troop _I_ so long commanded that made thedecisive charge. They have fulfilled my highest expectations," was anoft repeated remark. And when Mrs. Whaling came the second time todispense tearful felicitations, she found him ready to say amen to herpious suggestions that they should unite in praise and prayer to theThrone of Mercy.

  The man was indeed

  "A rogue in grain, Veneered with sanctimonious theory."

  They--Grace and Marion--had early fled to their rooms and knelt inoverwhelming gratitude to thank the God they worshipped for the mercyvouchsafed to those so near to them. He--the two-faced villain--held inhis pocket at that moment the letter with which he meant to crush thewoman who had dared to hold him aloof.

  As yet, however, he had no intention of immediately using it. For thetime being, the general rejoicing among the ladies made it possible foreven a shirk like Gleason to be among them a good deal. They could talkof nothing but how splendid it was to be with the regiment, and howadmirably this or that officer had behaved, and one would suppose thatsuch conversation would have been galling to an able-bodied listener;but that pachydermatous quality, to which allusion has been made, stoodGleason in good stead. He smiled serenely at all their shafts, and spokeof the deeds of the regiment quite as though he had been an activeparticipant. He hung around Truscott's quarters a good deal, bringingall manner of trivial items of news from time to time, and evenmanufacturing them that he might have an excuse to see the ladies. Hewas so constantly there on pretext after pretext that he overdid thematter,--annoyed both the ladies by his persistency and his covertallusions to Wolf and occasional flings at Ray. They begged Mrs.Stannard to devise means to rid them of him at last; and one afternoonwhen he appeared at the door and walked past the servant into the hall,as was his custom, the maid had twice to repeat,--

  "The ladies beg to be excused," before he would hear it.

  "Say to Mrs. Truscott, with my compliments, that I have some furthernews of the regiment," he said, in a voice he knew would penetrate therooms on the second floor, and it did; but Mrs. Stannard was there. Hehad already called and spent an hour that very morning, and the ladieshad determined to check it.

  "Mrs. Truscott's compliments," said the maid, smilingly, as she cametripping down the stairs. "The ladies are lying down, and would heplease leave word. If it was anything important, of course Mrs. Truscottwould come."

  "Oh, no," said Gleason, loudly; "say I'll call this evening afterretreat."

  But when he came they were all on the piazza, Mrs. Stannard, too, and heknew that he could not be too careful what tidings or rumors hemanufactured in her presence. Again, on the following morning, hepresented himself with similar plea. This time the ladies begged to beexcused.

  "Will you say to Miss Sanford that I would greatly like to see her a fewminutes?" he persisted. And then Miss Sanford came to head of thestairs,--no further.

  "What is it, Mr. Gleason? I cannot come down," she said, very civilly,but uncompromising for all that.

  "Er--I hoped you felt like--er--taking a walk or something."

  "Thanks, Mr. Gleason. I am too busy to-day."

  "Well, shall we say to-morrow, then?" he persevered.

  "To-morrow I go riding with Mrs. Stannard."

  "Do you? What time? Perhaps I can arrange to take a gallop at the samehour. You've never ridden with me yet." (Reproachfully.)

  "You will have to ask Mrs. Stannard. Now, Mr. Gleason, I must go back tomy desk. Good-morning." And she vanished, sweet and smiling, and he"went off mad," swearing mad.

  That very afternoon an ambulance arrived from Laramie with Ray. Oh, whata jubilee they had! and how those women fluttered around him as he satin a low reclining-chair on the piazza of the quarters made ready forhim! A young assistant surgeon was with him, whom Ray cajoled andbullied alternately; called him such military pet names as "Pills,""Squills," and "Sawbones" whenever he had occasion to address him;laughed him out of all his feeble protests against "exciting himself,"and bade him reserve his ministrations for Blake, who would be in on themorrow. The evening he came, after he had been shaved and bathed andrebandaged, and had his hair trimmed, and had donned a very swellbrand-new fatigue uniform, in which he looked remarkably natty and welldespite a slight pallor, Ray had insisted on b
eing trundled up the rowin a wheeled chair, and there at Mrs. Stannard's they had a littlerejoicing of their own,--Ray and the young surgeon being surrounded bythe ladies of the --th for an hour, when Mrs. Wilkins had to go off toher brood, Mrs. Turner to visit some infantry friends, and then, awhilelonger, Miss Sanford sat and listened to the eager talk of Mrs. Stannardand Grace with the dark-eyed cavalryman, and those dark eyes of hissought hers every other minute. They tried to get him to talk of hisride. Even Grace, declaring that he must, and turning laughingly to herfriend, exclaimed,--"Come, Maidie, add your plea. You have a right toknow how your colors went;" and Miss Sanford's face flamed with itssudden blush, but she spoke no word. Mrs. Stannard, smiling and happy,but seeing everything as usual, noted that Ray, too, had flushedunderneath the deep tan of his frontier complexion, but he came to therescue blithely as ever.

  "Ah, Miss Sanford, it would have been easy enough if I had only hadMonarchist; though Dandy did nobly, bless him!"

  It was a blissful evening, and all too short, for the doctor simplyended it by wheeling Ray home at nine o'clock and putting him to bed.For two days more he was incessantly up the row in his wheeled chair.Twice Gleason saw him _tete-a-tete_ with Miss Sanford on the piazza, andthe garrison ladies were slyly twitting him with his prospects of beingcut out. The whole garrison by this time saw that he and Ray were not onspeaking terms. Blake, too, had arrived, a little cross and crabbed forhim, as his wounds were painful, consisting mainly of bruises where hiswounded horse had fallen and rolled with him. But he could limp aboutand swear, and distort the poetry of the old masters and be savage andcynical. He hated Gleason, ridiculed him in public, and hailed him as amilitary Malvolio.

  "See how he jets 'neath his (anything but) advanced plumes!" he spouted,as Gleason came gallanting some of the garrison ladies down the line,desperately hoping to make Miss Sanford jealous. Gleason couldn't forthe life of him explain what Blake meant, but he knew there was sarcasmin it, and hated him all the same. It would be but a few days beforeboth the wounded officers would be able to perform light duty. Therecame a telegraphic inquiry as to that from way up at Fort Fetterman. Thecolonel wanted to know, and old Whaling was pleased to send theresponse. But it was a blow to Gleason. Within forty-eight hours itbrought other telegraphic orders from division headquarters to sendLieutenant Gleason at once to Fort Fetterman, to join his regiment atthe earliest possible moment.

  There was visible rejoicing in the garrison. Gleason had a vehementinterview with the post commander and galloped off to town, where hespent much time telegraphing and awaiting replies. Then, to wear off thetedium of the intervening hours, he resorted to several haunts wellknown to the inhabitants of those days, and did more or less betting onuncertain games, and much more wrestling with an insidious enemy. He wascrazy drunk when lifted from the hack at his quarters late that night;and his orders were to take stage for Fetterman at three P.M. thefollowing day. Captain Webb, returning from his Kansas court, wouldreach Cheyenne at noon and go by same conveyance. It was arranged thatthe two officers should be in readiness at the fort, and the coach woulddrive through and pick them up.