by Charles King
CHAPTER XII.
A SERENADE.
"News from Mr. Ray!" exclaimed Mrs. Stannard, as she came in all smilesand sunshine the morning after the Fourth. "Just think of it, CaptainTruscott! the major says they were all wondering when they could hope toget letters from home, when who should come trotting into camp but Raywith a bagful. He found a couple of men at Laramie who had been leftbehind when the regiment went through, and the three of them slipped offtogether, and by riding all night managed to escape the Indians. Did youever know such a reckless fellow?"
Truscott shook his head. "I wish Ray _would_ be more prudent. If therewere any occasion for such a risk 'twould be a different thing----"
"But there _was_" said Mrs. Stannard, promptly. "The commanding officerat Laramie had received important orders for the --th by telegraph, andhe didn't know how to get them through. No scouts or runners were in.Ray got there the evening before, and the moment he heard of it he wentright to the colonel and begged to be allowed to go. It seems thattrouble is expected at the agency," she continued. "The major sends justa few lines to say they expect to leave the Cheyenne valley and go rightin there. The pickets have chased Indians coming from thenorthwest,--runners from Sitting Bull, they say,--and the officers donot like the looks of things."
Truscott's face was very grave but his manner was unchanged. Mrs. Graceand her friend had risen from the breakfast-table to welcome theirex-hostess and valued neighbor, and the three ladies looked as thoughnews from the front brought far more of anxiety than comfort. Beforeanything further was said there came a light tap at the door, and Mrs.Turner fluttered in, bewitchingly pretty in her white muslin, withbright-colored ribbons. There were ill-natured people who observed attimes of Mrs. Turner that she took far more pains with her dress whenthe captain was away on campaign and "the doughboys" were running thegarrison, than she did when her liege lord was at home. Of this wecannot speak advisedly. Certain it is that on this particularly bright,glorious sunshiny morning of the fifth of July in the Centennial year,Mrs. Turner was most becomingly attired.
"I wouldn't have intruded at so unconventional an hour only I saw Mrs.Stannard come running in; I knew she had a letter, and so had I. Isn'tit horrid? Captain Turner says it looks as though they might be out allsummer! Oh, Miss Sanford! I'm so glad you are dressed and ready, for theambulance is coming around now, and I _know_ you and Mrs. Truscott wantto go in this morning and see Mrs. Wing's new goods. She openedyesterday, you know, and Mrs. Wilkins says all the bonnets are freshfrom New York and lovely. You _will_ go, won't you? Come just as youare. You'll only need a light wrap, for the sun is very warm."
Why is it that when one woman knows herself to be tastefully andbecomingly dressed, she is so eager to assure others who are toaccompany her that they need nothing by way of adornment? The ambulance_was_ at the door. The visit to town had been contemplated for two orthree days, so matters were quickly arranged. There was abundant room,and Mrs. Stannard decided to go too.
In a few minutes half a dozen ladies in their airy summer costumes weregathered around the Concord wagon, ordinarily referred to as "theambulance." Mr. Gleason was promptly on hand with other officers toassist; the band was just marching away towards its quarters, when MissSanford's quick eye was attracted by the sight of some evident commotionat the adjutant's office at the west end; one soldier was running atfull speed in pursuit of the old and new officers of the day, who weredescending the slope to the creek valley, another soldier--thecommanding officer's orderly--came running down the road towards theparty.
She was already seated, as were most of the others. Mrs. Turner spranglightly in, and coquettishly kissed her hand to the group of officers onthe walk.
"Go on, driver," she said.
"One moment, Mrs. Turner; please wait. I think something is the matter.Look!"
And Miss Sanford pointed to the running men. All eyes were instantlyfixed on the orderly. He came up, wellnigh breathless.
"Captain Truscott! gentlemen! The commanding officer's compliments, anddesires to see all the officers at once."
The group started at the instant. Truscott turned and held out his handsto his wife.
With the quick intuition of a woman accustomed to "war's alarms," shefelt that evil tidings had come, and was already starting to leave thecarriage.
"Oh! what can it be?" almost wailed Mrs. Turner. "Do you know, orderly?"
"It's been a big battle, ma'am, and they say General Custer and lots ofofficers is killed."
Truscott swung his wife from the wagon, and almost lifted her to thepiazza. Miss Sanford, white and silent, sprang out unaided and ran toher side. Mrs. Stannard, with an awful dread in her kind blue eyes, tookTruscott's hand as he returned and assisted her to alight.
"Will you stay with Grace?" he whispered. "I will go at once to theoffice. Come, Mrs. Turner."
But Mrs. Turner hung back irresolute. "Perhaps it isn't true at all,captain, and this may be the only time we can have the ambulance for aweek."
For answer he silently took her at the waist in his powerful hands, sether speechless with astonishment on the sidewalk, sprang in, and spokesharply to the driver,--
"Whirl round. Get there to the office quick as you can."
And the lashed mules went at a gallop.
Entering the office with the customary knock at the open door, Truscottstood first in the presence of the post commander and his adjutant.
"For God's sake read that!" said the colonel, holding up to him somethree or four sheets of telegraphic despatch paper. The other officerscame hurrying in.
"Read it aloud, Truscott."
And so to the group of speechless officers and to the knot of soldierswho had gathered in the hall the dread news of the battle of the LittleHorn was told at Russell. Custer and his five pet companies completely"wiped out," said the staff-officer, who sent the news flashing aroundto the military posts in the department. Three hundred and twenty-fivesoldiers swept out of existence only an easy day's gallop in front ofthe Gray Fox's pickets, and it had taken all this time--ten days--to getthe news into civilization. There was no sign of a smile the rest ofthat long day at Russell. The gloom of death had settled down on thepost. The ladies were seen no more. The doctor was sent for in more thanone instance. Mrs. Truscott was reported very ill.
But if garrison after garrison was thrown into dismay all over thefrontier by the sudden news, who can picture the scene at Lincoln, whenat dawn of that dreadful day a sergeant came over from the boat atBismarck to arouse the people at the hospital and to break the blow tothe widows and orphans? Reveille had not sounded when the commandingofficer, the adjutant, and a surgeon started on the gloomy round of thecavalry garrison. Yesterday we saw those fair, smiling women bravelystriving to hide their anxieties and loneliness, and to lend enthusiasmto the celebration of the nation's anniversary. One after another theywere startled from the deep slumber of early morning by the knocking atthe door,--"the first knell of disaster,"--and who that saw the oldMissouri post when the fearful news was finally made known to all willever forget the scene that ensued? May God avert the possibility of suchanother!
The day wore gloomily away at Russell. Twice Mr. Gleason called atCaptain Truscott's quarters. The second time Mrs. Stannard appeared atthe door, and briefly told him that Mrs. Truscott was not well enough tosee anybody, and that Miss Sanford begged to be excused. Mrs. Whalingpermeated the post in an ecstasy of soulful comfort, shedding prayersand prophecies of similar fortune for the --th with the impartiality ofa saint. She even succeeded in scaring Mrs. Turner half to death andexasperating Mrs. Wilkins to the verge of a tirade, but the latter hadcontented herself with the spirited, though ungrateful announcement thatwhen it came to having hearses and mutes it wouldn't be Mrs. Whalingthey'd inquire for. "Matters are bad enough without your making 'emworse, ma'am," she said, in her decided way. And the good lady, longingto deluge somebody with sympathetic tears, was compelled to confineherself to the round of the infantry quarters, where, with the ladi
es ofher own regiment, she could bemoan the unfathomable ingratitude and lackof appreciation of their sisters of the --th.
Late that afternoon there came more orders and despatches. Truscott andthe other cavalry officers were summoned to Colonel Whaling's, wherethey found most of the infantrymen already assembled. Captain Webb hadbeen called back to Kansas as a witness before a civil court, and toTruscott the order of the division commander was conveyed that he shouldmarch with the two troops at Russell without delay, and join the --thwherever he could find them north of the Platte. Three of the fourinfantry companies would also march for Laramie at dawn. ColonelWhaling, with one small company, the recruits, the band, and thenon-combatants, would remain to take charge of the post.
Sending for his first sergeant, Truscott ordered him to have everythingput in readiness at once. A man was sent to town to recall all soldierson pass. There had been no drills during the day. Officers and men alikeseemed stunned by the tidings that had come at guard-mounting. He thenwent to his quarters, and to his young wife's bedside. She was preparedfor the news; he had told her during the day that now every availableofficer and man would be hurried to the front. She was in no dangerwhatever; it was the shock, the abruptness of the announcement of theorderly, that had so prostrated her. She lay there very pale andstill--never taking her soft eyes from his face and holding tightly hishand--as he gently told her all he had to say.
"I cannot be too thankful," he said at last, "that I have Miss Sanfordand Mrs. Stannard here to be your companions during the campaign. Itwill be late in autumn before we can hope to return, my darling."
Later that evening the young subalterns of his own and Webb's troop cameto him for certain instructions as to the mess and baggage arrangements.Mr. Gleason had not appeared since the issuance of the orders to march.Tattoo was just sounding out on the parade, and the men could be seenflitting to and fro against the lights of the company barracks. Theywere standing at the little gate in front of his quarters, and two orthree officers passed them.
"Oh, Mr. Gleason, one moment," called Truscott.
Gleason turned and approached them.
"I presume you will mess with the rest of us,--at least until we reachthe regiment. Mr. Wells has been arranging for mess-furniture andsupplies."
"Well--er--no, captain," said Gleason, in evident embarrassment. "Thefact is the colonel directs that I remain here. _Somebody_ has to stayto instruct recruits, and the colonel has settled upon me. It is merelytemporary, of course."
Truscott stood looking at him in silence a moment; a dark line wasgrowing between his brows.
"The colonel--er--sent for me just at retreat," Gleason stumbled on; "Iassure you I had nothing to say to him to bring about such a thing. Itwas entirely against my wishes, but orders are orders."
"I am glad to hear you say the order was unsolicited," said the captainshortly. "The colonel will, doubtless, notify me. That is all, Mr.Gleason; I will not detain you."
And Gleason went on his way to the store, which he had lately avoided;he felt that he stood in need of bracing. Still, so far as saying thathe had made no request of Colonel Whaling, he had told the truth. Hehad simply represented the detachment of recruits as being utterlydemoralized by the news of the massacre, and that he had reason tobelieve many of them would desert, and as _that_ would reflect on thevigilance of the post commander, the latter jumped at what was suggestedto him by his far-sighted wife,--the temporary detention of Mr. Gleasonto take charge of them. At daybreak on the sixth, Truscott's squadron,of over a hundred horse finely mounted, equipped, and disciplined, wasmarching rapidly over the ridge to Lodge Pole, leaving Russell--wivesand children--behind; leaving to care for them, among others, Gleasonand Sergeant Wolf.
Wearily the day of their departure rolled away. Mrs. Truscott never lefther room. Mrs. Stannard and Miss Sanford rarely left her. Once or twicehad Mr. Gleason called, being met again by Mrs. Stannard, whom he wasbeginning to hate. "The ladies were resting," he was informed; so, too,was Mrs. Whaling told when she came, and seemed discomfited at not beinginvited up-stairs. It was difficult, indeed, to persuade her that shehad not better remain in the parlor in case Mrs. Truscott should ask forher.
"You see, Mrs. Stannard," explained Gleason, "the last thing I promisedTruscott as he rode away was that I would not lose sight of the ladies,would watch over them incessantly, and I want to keep faith with him."
Mrs. Stannard had her doubts as to how much of this statement was true,though she had no doubts as to how much was uncalled for. Mr. Gleasonwent away feeling injured and rebuffed. It was Miss Sanford's business,he held, to come down and see him if only for a moment. He had gainedhis object in being kept back at the post, that he might pursue hiswooing. Satisfied of the wealth and social standing of the lady, he feltno doubt whatever that if given a fair field he could win her, and winher he would. If unlimited conceit has not yet been mentioned orindicated as one of Mr. Gleason's prominent traits, the omission isindeed important. He felt that up to the time of Truscott's coming hisprogress had been satisfactory. Officers and ladies were already makingsly allusions in his presence as to his prospects for a secondentanglement, and were heard with complacent undenial. Ever since theday of his aspersion of Ray he had been losing ground, however, and now,confound it! here was Ray looming up as a hero again, making a wildnight-ride with despatches. He felt that things must be brought to acrisis speedily. He knew that, properly handled, he had the means ofclouding Ray's name with something worse than suspicion. He had alreadysneeringly replied to the officers who had spoken admiringly of Ray'sdaring, by saying that Ray was, doubtless, trying to make a record toblock matters that were working against him here. Some of his auditorshad gone off disgusted. One had plainly said he was sick ofinsinuations. Now, however, they were all gone, and he had the fieldpractically to himself. The half-dozen officers left at the post wouldbe little apt to interfere with him. Only, he must manage Mrs. Stannard.Gleason took a fortifying glass or two, ordered up his horse, and, lateas it was, rode in to Cheyenne. There he dropped in at thetelegraph-office,--he could have sent it from the adjutant's office justas well,--and, after some deliberation, wrote this despatch:
"WILLARD RALLSTON, ESQ., Omaha.
"Why no letter? When you coming? Act now. Ferguson gone.
"G."
Being in town he dropped in at one or two places of popular resort, andhad more or less conversation with the hangers-on at the open bars. Hedrank more freely than usual, too, and while by no means off hisbalance, mentally or physically, when at midnight he turned his horse'shead homewards, he was rather more capable of any deed of meanness thanwould ordinarily have been deemed expedient. His quarters reached, hestood for a moment gazing along the dark and silent row. Suddenly, softand sweet on the clear night air he heard the notes of a guitar, then atenor voice, well trained, rich and melodious. He well knew there was noofficer in the garrison who could sing like that. Who was it? Where wasit?
Slipping through the back-yard and keeping close under the high boardfence, Mr. Gleason tiptoed up the row until behind Truscott's. Aconvenient knot-hole enabled him to peer through, and his eye lit on thedim figure of a man enveloped in cavalry overcoat standing beneath therear window. This, then, was the troubadour.
A moment or two previous, Miss Sanford, wearied after a long day ofanxiety and care, was roused from a broken sleep by a soft, sweet tenorvoice beneath her window, and the tinkling accompaniment of a guitar.Each word came floating through the silent night,--
"Rings Stille herscht--es schweigt der Wald, Vollendet ist des Tages Lauf; Der Voegleins Lied ist laengst verhallt, Am Himmel ziehn die Sterne auf. Schlaf wohl, schlaf wohl, Und schliess die schoenen Augen zu; Schlaf wohl, schlaf wohl, Du suesser, lieber Engel Du."
She knew instantly who it must be. She noiselessly slipped to the doorleading into Grace's chamber, and the dim night-light showed her sweetfriend sound asleep. Returning, she crept to the window, shrouded as it
was by the inner curtain. No sign would she give that the song washeard, but what woman would not have risked one peep? Finishing hissong, the serenader turned on his heel, gave one long, lingering look atthe darkened window, then strode out of the rear gate and away towardsthe band quarters. Drawing the curtain farther aside, Miss Sanfordplainly recognized the walk and bearing. She followed him with her eyesuntil he had gone full a hundred yards, was about to let fall thecurtain, when, crouching like panther, sneaking from shadow to shadow,there slipped past the gate the dim figure of a second man in stealthypursuit. Who could this be? The first, of course, was Sergeant Wolf.
