Lanier of the Cavalry | Page 6

forts along the Indian border, he saw at a glance

that something had gone amiss. The colonel was laboriously waltzing;
three or four couples were mechanically following suit, but most of the
men were gathered about the buffet, and most of the women huddled at
the dressing-room door, and Scott, marching over to pay his respects to
the colonel's wife, and explain his coming at so late an hour, noted
instantly the trouble in her serious face. He had known her long and
liked her well, as, despite occasional differences at whist, he did her
husband. Captain Snaffle was speaking with her at the moment. Mrs.
Snaffle was at her side. "Why did they tell her at all?" Mrs. Snaffle was
asking, with much spirit and obvious effort to control a racial tendency
to double the final monosyllables. "Sure they might have known 't
would sc--frighten the life out of her."
"Sc--frighten who?" asked Scott, who was friends with everybody and,
for more reasons than his office, a welcome guest wherever he went.
Snaffle shot a warning glance at his wife, which fell, as he said,
"unaided."
"It's Bobby Lanier, meejor, only you mustn't sp--refer--to it." Mrs.
Snaffle, when self-controlled, discreetly shunned such vowels as
betrayed her origin, a totally useless precaution, since all men knew it
and liked her none the less.
"Lanier? Oh, yes, I thought it was Bob I saw a while ago streaking it
across the parade. It's bright as day in the moonlight with the snow.
What's Bob got to do with frightening folk?" And now he was shaking
hands with all three.
"Something very unfortunate has happened, major," said Mrs. Button.
"Mr. Lanier was officer-of-the-guard and asked to attend the dance, Mr.
Trotter offering to take charge of the guard. Colonel Button felt
compelled to decline, and--he came any way. You know, of course, that
couldn't be overlooked."
"H'm," said Scott gravely and reflectively. "And who is so frightened?"
"Miriam Arnold; a very charming girl who is visiting the Sumters.
Indeed, it looks as though she cared for him. It's no secret that he's in

love with her."
"Ah, yes. Well, then, it was she I saw getting into the Fosters' sleigh at
the side door."
"Oh, I think not! I hope not!" cried Mrs. Button, a flush mounting to
her face. "I wanted to say a reassuring word after a little----"
But at the moment Mrs. Sumter was seen coming forth from the
dressing-room. Half a dozen women were upon her at once with
sympathetic inquiries. To these she spoke briefly, yet courteously, and,
escaping on the arm of the regimental quartermaster, came straightway
to Mrs. Button.
"You will forgive my girls for not saying good-night," she cordially
spoke. "Miriam has been quite upset by a letter from home; and this
little--episode--this evening, which she cannot understand as we do, has
so unstrung her that Mrs. Foster offered to send them over home in her
sleigh. The side door had been barred, but Mr. Horton pried it open for
them, so they had no need to come this way, and face everybody--and
explain."
"You know how sorry I am," said Mrs. Button. "Of course they are
excusable for leaving as they did. Why, where are the others going?"
The music had suddenly stopped. There was a scurry on the part of the
men at the anteroom. Several had run to the entrance. Others were
following. Some one among the women, with startled eyes and paling
face, sprang up saying, "It's fire"--always a dread at wind-swept
Cushing. Almost at the same instant the colonel and Scott reached the
veranda without. A dozen officers were there, intent and listening. "I
tell you I heard it plainly," said one of their number, "and the Foster
sleigh isn't back."
"Heard what, sir?" demanded the colonel. "What's the trouble?"
"A cry for help--or something, over yonder. Barker and Blake are gone.
There was a stir at the guard-house, too."

And as though to confirm this much, at least, there presently appeared
round the corner of the building the sergeant of the guard, in his fur cap
and overcoat, and with him a burly soldier, bleeding at the nose and
bristling with wrath. One hand covered a damaged eye; with the other
he saluted Captain Snaffle, who had edged to the front of the group.
"Sir, I have to report Trooper Rawdon assaulting a non-commissioned
officer."
For an instant there was silence. Then Major Scott gave tongue.
"Trooper Rawdon!" cried he, "why he's been with me nearly a month,
and now has a month's furlough from General Crook. He's the best man
of the escort."
"Refused to obey my orders to go to his quarters, sir, and assaulted me
when I tried to enforce 'em. Sergeant Blunt says he won't confine him