From the Ranks | Page 7

the road; an
outer stairway ran up to the centre door at the back, but at the east and
west flanks of the house the stone walls stood without port or window
except those above the eaves,--the dormers. Light and air in abundance
streamed through the broad Venetian windows north and south when
light and air were needed. This night, as usual, all was tightly closed
below, all darkness aloft as he glanced up at the dormers high above his
head. As he did so, his foot struck a sudden and sturdy obstacle; he
stumbled and pitched heavily forward, and found himself sprawling at
full length upon a ladder lying on the ground almost in the middle of
the roadway.
"Damn those painters!" he growled between his set teeth. "They leave
their infernal man-traps around in the very hope of catching me, I
believe. Now, who but a painter would have left a ladder in such a

place as this?"
Rising ruefully and rubbing a bruised knee with his hand, he limped
painfully ahead a few steps, until he came to the side-wall of the
colonel's house. Here a plank walk passed from the roadway along the
western wall until almost on a line with the front piazza, where by a
flight of steps it was carried up to the level of the parade. Here he
paused a moment to dust off his clothes and rearrange his belt and
sword. He stood leaning against the wall and facing the gray stone
gable end of the row of old-fashioned quarters that bounded the parade
upon the southwest. All was still darkness and silence.
"Confound this sword!" he muttered again: "the thing made rattle and
racket enough to wake the dead. Wonder if I disturbed anybody at the
colonel's."
As though in answer to his suggestion, there suddenly appeared, high
on the blank wall before him, the reflection of a faint light. Had a little
night-lamp been turned on in the front room of the upper story? The
gleam came from the north window on the side: he saw plainly the
shadow of the pretty lace curtains, looped loosely back. Then the shade
was gently raised, and there was for an instant the silhouette of a
slender hand and wrist, the shadow of a lace-bordered sleeve. Then the
light receded, as though carried back across the room, waned, as though
slowly extinguished, and the last shadows showed the curtains still
looped back, the rolling shade still raised.
"I thought so," he growled. "One tumble like that is enough to wake the
Seven Sleepers, let alone a love-sick girl who is probably dreaming
over Jerrold's parting words. She is spirited and blue-blooded enough to
have more sense, too, that same superb brunette. Ah, Miss Alice, I
wonder if you think that fellow's love worth having. It is two hours
since he left you,--more than that,--and here you are awake yet,--cannot
sleep,--want more air, and have to come and raise your shade. No such
warm night, either." These were his reflections as he picked up his
offending sword and, more slowly and cautiously now, groped his way
along the western terrace. He passed the row of bachelor quarters, and
was well out beyond the limits of the fort before he came upon the next

sentry,--"Number Five,"--and recognized, in the stern "Who comes
there?" and the sharp rattle of the bayonet as it dropped to the charge,
the well-known challenge of Private Leary, one of the oldest and most
reliable soldiers in the regiment.
"All right on your post, Leary?" he asked, after having given the
countersign.
"All right, I think, sor; though if the captain had asked me that half an
hour ago I'd not have said so. It was so dark I couldn't see me hand
afore me face, sor; but about half-past two I was walkin' very slow
down back of the quarters, whin just close by Loot'nant Jerrold's back
gate I seen somethin' movin', and as I come softly along it riz up, an'
sure I thought 'twas the loot'nant himself, whin he seemed to catch sight
o' me or hear me, and he backed inside the gate an' shut it. I was sure
'twas he, he was so tall and slim like, an' so I niver said a word until I
got to thinkin' over it, and then I couldn't spake. Sure if it had been the
loot'nant he wouldn't have backed away from a sintry; he'd 'a' come out
bold and given the countersign; but I didn't think o' that. It looked like
him in the dark, an' 'twas his quarters, an' I thought it was him, until I
thought ag'in, and then, sor, I wint back and searched the yard; but
there was no one there."
"Hm! Odd thing that,