around the
ladies, and Blake was there sprawling over the railing as was his wont,
and convulsing the assemblage every now and then with his outrageous
travesties and declamatory outbursts. Blake was in the wildest possible
spirits. He was bubbling over with fun and the milk of human kindness,
except for that poor devil of a quartermaster, at whom he scowled
diabolically whenever they met. He had forgiven Mrs. Turner, who was
quick to see where the "gang" had gathered that afternoon, and was early
on hand to lure the new victims. Already she was making a deep
impression on Mr. Corry, who was gazetted to her husband's troop, and
was fetching him farther into the meshes with every glance of her eyes.
And then came Mrs. Whaling, whom Blake hastened to meet, and with
elaborate genuflexions to usher into the circle, where she was speedily
seated and regaling the company with her views on the chances of the
campaign. It being the ardent desire of every cavalry lady in garrison
that the --th should be ordered thither for winter quarters, Mrs.
Whaling was full of information which "the general" had received from
confidential sources going to prove that a great infantry post was to be
established there, which he would command, while the cavalry remained in
the Hills until spring. Blake noted the silence among the young
officers and the anxious look in Mrs. Truscott's face (Mrs. Stannard had
long since ceased to be influenced by Mrs. Whaling's statements), and he
determined on a diversion. He felt morally certain that the only
"confidential" communication the veteran post commander had received
from any superior in a week was the stinging rap from division
headquarters anent the bungle he had made in Ray's affair, and on
general principles he felt that he couldn't let an opportunity slip.

"Oh, come now, Mrs. Whaling, don't crush all the hopes we had of
spending the winter with you here. 'Lady, you are the cruellest she
alive' if you will lead us to believe such ill report, and here we were
all rejoicing that Ray comes to-morrow."

"Oh! Mr. Ray, to be sure! and how delightful it is to think that he has
justified all our confidence in him! He returns like--a--the Bayard of
old; _the chevalier sans peur et--et_----"

"_Sans culotte?_" suggested Blake.

"Ah, yes; thanks! Mr. Blake. As though I _could_ have forgotten it for a
moment! Quite like the chevalier _sans peur et sans culotte_. Such a
knightly fellow as he always was!"