denly toward her again as she stands there trembling at his
melodramatic misery. "There is no engagement! There has been nothing
said, has there? Tell me!"

"Not a word,--from me," she whispers low. "He sent me a little note
yesterday through Jeannie. Indeed, you can see it, papa; but I have not
answered. It doesn't ask anything."

"Then promise me no word shall go, my child! Promise me! I cannot tell
you why just yet, but he is not the man to whom I could ever consent to
give you. My child! my child! his name is clouded; his honor is
tarnished; he stands accused of crime. Nellie--my God! you must hear it
sooner or later."

But now she draws away from him and leans upon the balusters, looking
into his face as though she doubted his sanity.

"Father!" she slowly speaks at length, "I could no more believe such a
thing of him--than I could of you."

A quick, springy step is suddenly heard on the wooden walk without, the
rattle of an infantry sword against the steps, an imperative
rat-tat-tat at the door. Elinor speeds away to hide her flushed cheeks
and tearful eyes in the solitude of her room. Bayard quickly composes
his features to their conventional calm and recedes to the gloom of the
library. Robert majestically stalks through the hall and opens the
door.

"Dr. Bayard in?" asks the brusque voice of the adjutant. "Ah, doctor,"
continues that officer, marching straightway into the den, "Major
Miller is at the gate and on his way to visit Mr. McLean. He begs that
you will be present at the interview, as it is on a matter of much
importance."

"Very well, Mr. Adjutant," answers Bayard, gravely, as though divining
the solemn import of their errand. "I am at your service at once."

XVII.

An odd despatch was that which went by the single wire of the military
telegraph line to Fort Fetterman late that night. It was known that a
small escort would leave that point early in the morning, going
through with a staff-officer _en route_ to join the field column now
busily engaging the hostile Indians along the northern foot-hills of
the Big Horn range. Major Miller asked the commanding officer at
Fetterman to hold back a brace of horsemen to await the arrival of a
courier just leaving Laramie, and bearing an important and
confidential letter to the general commanding the department, who was
with his troops in the field. It was over eighty miles by the river
road; the night was dark and the skies overcast. There