f."

It must have been near midnight, and the hop was going along
beautifully, and Captain Rayner, who was officer of the day, was just
escorting his wife in to supper, and Nellie, although looking a trifle
tired and pale, was chatting brightly with a knot of young officers when
a corporal of the guard came to the door: "The commanding officer's
compliments, and he desires to see the officer of the day at once."

There was a general laugh. "Isn't that Buxton all over? The colonel
would never think of sending for an officer in the dead of night, except
for a fire or alarm; but old Bux. begins putting on frills the moment he
gets a chance. Thank God, _I'm_ not on guard to-night!" said Mr. Royce.

"What _can_ he want with you?" asked Mrs. Rayner, pettishly. "The idea
of one captain ordering another around like this!"

"I'll be back in five minutes," said Rayner, as he picked up his sword
and disappeared.

But ten minutes--fifteen--passed, and he came not. Mrs. Rayner grew
worried, and Mr. Blake led her out on the rude piazza to see what they
could see, and several others strolled out at the same time. The music
had ceased, and the night air was not too cold. Not a soul was in sight
out on the starlit parade. Not an unusual sound was heard. There was
nothing to indicate the faintest trouble; and yet Captain Buxton, the
commanding officer, had been called out by his "striker" or
soldier-servant before eleven o'clock, had not returned at all, and in
little over half an hour had sent for the officer of the day. What did
it mean? Questioning and talking thus among themselves, somebody said,
"Hark!" and held up a warning hand.

Faint, far, muffled, there sounded on the night air a shot, then a
woman's scream; then all was still.

"Mrs. Clancy again!" said one.

"That was not Mrs. Clancy: 'twas a far different voice," answered Blake,
and tore away across the parade as fast as his long legs would carry
him.

"Look! The guard are running too!" cried Mrs. Waldron. "What can it be?"
And, sure enough, the gleam of the rifles could be seen as the men ran
rapidly away in the direction of the east gate. Mrs. Rayner had grown
ghastly, and was looking at Miss Travers, who with white lips and
clinched hands stood leaning on one of the wooden posts and gazing with
all her eyes across the dim level. Others came hurrying out from the
hall. Other young officers ran in pursuit of the first starters. "What's
the matter? What's happened