"What _can_ he want with you?" asked Mrs. Rayner, pettishly. "The idea of one captain ordering another around like this!" "I'll be back in five minutes," said Rayner, as he picked up his sword and disappeared. But ten minutes--fifteen--passed, and he came not. Mrs. Rayner grew worried, and Mr. Blake led her out on the rude piazza to see what they could see, and several others strolled out at the same time. The music had ceased, and the night air was not too cold. Not a soul was in sight out on the starlit parade. Not an unusual sound was heard. There was nothing to indicate the faintest trouble; and yet Captain Buxton, the commanding officer, had been called out by his "striker" or soldier-servant before eleven o'clock, had not returned at all, and in little over half an hour had sent for the officer of the day. What did it mean? Questioning and talking thus among themselves, somebody said, "Hark!" and held up a warning hand. Faint, far, muffled, there sounded on the night air a shot, then a woman's scream; then all was still. "Mrs. Clancy again!" said one. "That was not Mrs. Clancy: 'twas a far different voice," answered Blake, and tore away across the parade as fast as his long legs would carry him. "Look! The guard are running too!" cried Mrs. Waldron. "What can it be?" And, sure enough, the gleam of the rifles could be seen as the men ran rapidly away in the direction of the east gate. Mrs. Rayner had grown ghastly, and was looking at Miss Travers, who with white lips and clinched hands stood leaning on one of the wooden posts and gazing with all her eyes across the dim level. Others came hurrying out from the hall. Other young officers ran in pursuit of the first starters. "What's the matter? What's happened?" were the questions that flew from lip to lip. "I--I must go home," faltered Mrs. Rayner. "Come, Nellie!" "Oh, don't go, Mrs. Rayner. It can't be anything serious." But, even as they urged, a man came running towards them. "Is the doctor here?" he panted. "Yes. What's the trouble?" asked Dr. Pease, as he squeezed his burly form through the crowded door-way. "You're wanted, sir. Loot'nant Hayne's shot; an' Captain Rayner he's hurt too, sir." XV.