dded. "There are some instructions that General Banks
neglected to give him. It is late, but the general wishes to get it all
straight before he sleeps. I am sorry to disturb Lieutenant McNeill, for
he must be fatigued. But orders are orders, you know--"

"Av coorse, av coorse!" agreed Father Tierney. "'A man having
authority,' 'I say unto this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another,
Come, and he cometh--'"

"So, father, if you'll be good enough to explain to Lieutenant
McNeill--or if you'll tell me which is his room--"

The light of the candle showed a faint trouble in Father Tierney's face.
"Sure, it's too bad! Do you think, my son, the matter is of importance?
'T would be after being just a little left-over of directions?"

"Perhaps," said Marchmont. "But orders are orders, father, and I must
awaken Lieutenant McNeill. Indeed, it's hard to think that he's
asleep--"

"He isn't aslape."

"Then will you be so good as to tell him--"

"Indeed, and I wish I could do that same thing, my son, but it isn't in
nature--"

General Banks's aide made a gesture of impatience. "I can't dawdle here
any longer! Either you or I, father." He pushed into the hall. "Where is
his room?"

"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Father Tierney. "It's vexed he'll be when he
learns that the general wasn't done with him! There's the room, captain
darlint, but--"

Marchmont's eyes followed the pointing of the candlestick. "There!" he
exclaimed. The door was immediately upon the left, not five feet from
the portal he had lately belaboured. "Then 't was against his window
that I flung the gravel!"

With an oath he crossed the hall and struck his hand against the panel
indicated. No answer. He knocked again with peremptoriness, then tried
the door. It was unlocked, and opened quietly to his touch. All beyond
was silent and dark. "Father Tierney, I'll thank you for that candle!"
The priest gave it, and the aide held it up, displaying a chill and
vacant chamber, furnished with monastic spareness. There was a narrow
couch that had been slept in. Marchmont crossed the bare floor, bent,
and felt the bedclothing. "Quite cold. You've been gone some time, my
friend. H--m! things look rather black for you!"

Father Tierney spoke from the middle of the room. "It's sorry the
lieutenant will be! Sure, and he thought he had the general's last word!
'Slape until you wake, my son,' says I. 'Judy will give us breakfast at
eight.' 'No, no, father,' says he. 'Genera