"What do you make that other shadow to be, corporal?" he whispered,
hoarsely and hurriedly. "_Look!_" And with that exclamation a shadowed
arm seemed to encircle the slender form, the moustached image to bend
low and mingle with the outlined luxuriance of tress that decked the
other's head, and then, together, with clasping arms, the shadows moved
from view.
"What was the other, corporal?" he repeated.
"Well, sir, I should say it was a young woman."
Buxton could hardly wait until morning to see Rayner. When he passed the
latter's quarters half an hour later, all was darkness; though, had he
but known it, Rayner was not asleep. He was at the house before
guard-mounting, and had a confidential and evidently exciting talk with
the captain; and when he went, just as the trumpets were sounding, these
words were heard at the front door:
"She never left until after daylight, when the same rig drove her back
to town. There was a stranger with her then."
That morning both Rayner and Buxton looked hard at Mr. Hayne when he
came in to the _matinée_; but he was just as calm and quiet as ever,
and, having saluted the commanding officer, took a seat by Captain Gregg
and was soon occupied in conversation with him. Not a word was said by
the officer of the day about the mysterious visitor to the garrison the
previous night. With Captain Rayner, however, he was again in
conversation much of the day, and to him, not to his successor as
officer of the day, did he communicate all the details of the previous
night's adventure and his theories thereanent.
Late that night, having occasion to step to his front door, convinced
that he heard stealthy footsteps on his piazza, Mr. Hayne could see
nobody in the darkness, but found his front gate open. He walked around
his little house; but not a man was visible. His heart was full of a new
and strange excitement that night, and, as before, he threw on his
overcoat and furs and took a rapid walk around the garrison, gazing up
into the starry heavens and drinking in great draughts of the pure,
bracing air. Returning, he came down along the front of officers' row,
and as he approached Rayner's quarters his eyes rested longingly upon
the window he knew to be hers now; but all was darkness. As he rapidly
neared the house, however, he became aware of two bulky figures at the
gate, and, as he walked briskly past, recognized the overcoats as those
of officers. One man was doubtless Rayner, the other he could not tell;
for both, the instant they recognized his step, seemed to avert their
heads. Once home again, he soon sought his room and pillow; but, long
before he could sleep, again and again a sweet vision seemed to come to
him: he _could not_ shut out the thought of Nellie Travers,--of how she
looked and what she said that very afternoon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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