ly's people were up and moving about until long after
midnight. Of course No. 5 had heard all about the dreadful affair of
the early evening. What he and his fellows puzzled over was the
probable cause of Captain Wren's furious assault upon his subaltern.
Many a theory was afloat, Duane, with unlooked-for discretion, having
held his tongue as to the brief conversation that preceded the blow.
It was after eleven when the doctor paid his last visit for the night,
and the attendant came out on the rear porch for a pitcher of cool
water from the _olla_. It was long after twelve when the light in the
upstairs room at Captain Wren's was turned low, and for two hours
thereafter, with bowed head, the captain himself paced nervously up
and down, wearing in the soft and sandy soil a mournful pathway
parallel with his back porch. It was after three, noted Private
Mullins, of that first relief, when from the rear door of the major's
quarters there emerged two forms in feminine garb, and, there being no
hindering fences, away they hastened in the dim starlight, past
Wren's, Cutler's, Westervelt's, and Truman's quarters until they were
swallowed up in the general gloom about Lieutenant Blakely's. Private
Mullins could not say for certain whether they had entered the rear
door or gone around under the deep shadows of the veranda. When next
he saw them, fifteen minutes later, coming as swiftly and silently
back, Mullins was wondering whether he ought not to challenge and have
them account for themselves. His orders were to allow inmates of the
officers' quarters to pass in or out at night without challenge,
provided he "recognized them to be such." Now, Mullins felt morally
certain that these two were Mrs. Plume and Mrs. Plume's vivacious
maid, a French-Canadian damsel, much admired and sought in soldier
circles at the post, but Mullins had not seen their faces and could
rightfully insist it was his duty and prerogative to do so. The
question was, how would the "commanding officer's lady" like and take
it? Mullins therefore shook his head. "I hadn't the nerve," as he
expressed it, long afterwards. But no such frailty oppressed the
occupant of the adjoining house. Just as the two had reached the rear
of Wren's quarters, and were barely fifty steps from safety, the
captain himself, issuing again from the doorway, suddenly appeared
upon the scene, and in low, but imperative tone accosted them. "_Who_
are you?" said he, bending eagerly, ste