And in his
blind rage the officer grasped the unresisting soldier by the throat and
hurled him through the doorway whence he came. "Off with that shirt!" he
again shouted, as he turned. It was already almost off. Ah, how white
and smooth and firm was that slender, quivering little body, as, for the
last time the streaming eyes were imploringly uplifted, the slender arms
upraised, the sobbing prayer poured forth only to be heard--only to be
heard.

"Face the window! Turn your back, sir!" was the sole answer through the
set teeth, while with sinewy hand the father swung a yard-long strip of
leather, some discarded stirrup strap the boys had left upon the bench,
and poor Hogan, with a cry and curse upon his lips, rushed again to the
front in search of aid. One savage swish, one sharp, cruel, crashing
snap, one half-stifled, piteous scream, and then the doorway was
suddenly darkened, the maddened man was thrust aside, and, breathless,
panting, but determined and defiant, Marion Ray had flung herself upon
the bent and shrinking child, her fond arms clasping the bared and
quivering back to her wildly throbbing heart, her own brave form thrust
between her precious charge and the again uplifted scourge. "Jimmy boy,
my darling!" she sobbed, as strong and safe and sure she held him. Then,
with her blue eyes blazing, she turned on him.

"Oswald Dwight, are you mad?"

Then again the door was darkened as Sandy Ray came limping in. One
glance was enough. The strap was wrenched from the father's hand and
hurled to the open, empty, black-mouthed furnace. Then both hands were
needed, for Dwight, just as on Monday evening at parade, had begun to
sway and was groping for support. There was no one to interpose, no one
to interfere, when Marion Ray, having at last stilled poor Jimmy's heavy
sobbing and bathed his face and hands and helped him to dress, led him
unresisting away to her little home, for Madame "in her condition"--as
Felicie explained individually to the dozen men and women who thronged
the major's quarters that unhappy morning--was prostrated, desolated,
distracted by the tragedy that had come to arrive. It was as well,
perhaps, that at last it manifested itself what monster was this who
held this angel in bondage--the monster himself, meantime, having been
led to his room by Dr. Wallen. There, half-dazed, half-raving, he
resisted and declaimed until at last their measures took effect, both
doctors being with him now, and h