Crawfordsville Weekly Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 14 September 1894 — Page 6

By CAPTAIN OHAflT.ES KING.

(Copyright, 1894, by the J. B. Lipptncott Co.]

[CONTINUED.}

CHAPTER XL

Nature never vouchsafed to wearied xnan a lovelier day of rest than the still Sunday on which Frank Armitage rode slowly back from the station. The soft, mellow tone of the church bell, tolling the summons for morning service, floated out from the brown tower and was echoed back from the rocky cliff glistening in the August sunshine on the northern bluff. Groups of villagers hung about the steps of the little sanctuary and gazed with mild curiosity at the arriving parties from the cottages and the hotel. The big red omnibus came up •with a load of worshipers, and farther away, down the vista of the road, Armitage could see others on foot and in carriage, all wending their way to church. He was in no mood to meet them. The story that he had been out pursuing a tramp during tlio night was pretty thoroughly circulated by this time, he felt assured, and ovcry one would connect his early ride to the station, in some way, with the adventure that the grooms, hostlers, cooks and kitchen maids had all boon dilating upon ever since daybreak. Ho dreaded to meet the curious glances of the women and the questions of tlio few men whom he had taken so far into his confidence as to ask about the mysterious person who canio over in the stage with them.

He reined up his horse, .and then, seeing a little pathway leading into the thick wood to his light, he turned in thither and followed it some 50 yards among bordering treasures of coreopsis and goldenrod and wild luxuriance of vino and foliage. Dismounting in the shade, he threw the reins over his arm and let his horse crop the juicy grasses, while ho seated himself on a little stump and fell to thinking again. He could hear the reverent voices of one or two visitors strolling about among the peaceful, flower decked graves behind the little church and only a short stone's throw away through the shrubbery. He could hear the low solemn voluntary of the organ and presently the glad outburst of young voices in the opening hymn, but he knew that belated ones would still be coming to church, and he •would not come forth from his covert until iill were out of the way. Then, too, he was glad of a little longer time to think. He did not want to tell the colonel the iesult of his morning investigations.

To begin with, the watchman, tho driver and the two men whom he had questioned were all of an opinion as to the character of the stranger—"he was a military man." The passengers described his voice as that of a man of education and social position the driver and passengers declared his walk and carriage to be that of a soldier. He was taller, they said, than the tall, stalwart Saxon captain, but by no means so heavily built. As to age, they could not tell. His beard was black and curly —no gray hairs. His movements were quick and clastic, but his eyes were hidden by those colorod glasses, and his forehead by the slouch of that broad brimmed felt hat.

At the station, while awaiting the answer to his dispatch, Armitage had questioned the agent as to whether any man of that description had arrived by the night train from tho north. He had seen none, he said, but there was Larsen over at the postoffice store, who came down on that train. Perhaps he could tell. Oddly enough, Mr. Larsen recalled just such a party—tall, slim, dark, dark bearded, with blue glasses and dark hat and clothes—but he was bound for Lakeville, the station beyond, and he remained in the car when he (Larsen) got off. Larsen remembered the man well, because he sat in the rear corner of the smoker and had nothing to say to anybody, but kept reading a newspaper, and the way he came to take note of him was that while standing with two friends at that end of the car they happened to be right around the man. The Saturday evening train from the city is always crowded with people from the river towns who have been up to market or the matinees, and even the smoker was filled with standing men nntil they got some 30 miles down. Larsen wanted to light a fresh cigar and offered one to each of his friends. Then ii was round iney naa no matcnes, ana one of them, who had been drinking a little and fait jbvial, turned to the dark stranger and asked him for a light, and the man, without speaking, handed out a little silver matchbox. It was just then that the conductor came along, and Larsen saw his ticket. It was a "round trip" to Lakeville. He was evidently going there for a visit, and therefore, said Larsen, he didn't get off at Sablon station, which was six miles above.

But Armitage knew better. It was evident that he had quietly slipped out on the platform of the car after the regular passengers had got out of the way and let himself off into the darkness on the side opposite the station. Thenco he had an open, unimpeded walk of a few hundred yards until lie readied tho common, and then, when overtaken by the hotel omnibus, he could jump aboard and ride. There was only one road, only one way over to the hotel, and he could not miss it. There was no doubt now that, whoever he was, the night visitor had come down on the evening train from the city, and his return ticket would indicate that he meant to go back the way he came. It was half past 10 when that train arrived. It was nearly midnight when the man appeared at the cottage window. It was after 2 when Armitage 'gave up the search and went to bed. It was possible for tho man to have walked to Lakeville, six miles south, and reached the station then in abundant time to take the up train which passed Sablon, without stopping,

a xittie Derore aayDreaK.

11

ne toon that

train, and if he was Jerrold, he would have been in the city before 7 and could have been at Fort Sibley before or by 8 o'clock. But Chester's dispatch showed dearly that at 8:30—the hour for signing the company morning report—Mr. Jerrold was not at his post. Was he still in the neighborhood and waiting for the noon train? If so, could he be confronted on the cars and accused of his crime? Ho looked at his watch. It was nearly 11, and he must push on to the hotel before that hour, report to the colonel, then hasten back to the station. He sprang to his feet and was just about to mount when a vision of white and scarlet came suddenly into view. There, within 20 feet of him, making her dainty way through the shrubbery from the direction of the church, sunshine and shadow alternately flitting across her lovely face and form, Alice Renwick stepped forth into tho pathway, and shading her eyes with her hand gazed along tho leafy lane toward the road, as though expectant of another's coming. Then, attracted by the beauty of the goldenrod, she bent and busied Ii9rself with gathering in the yellow sprays. Armitage, with one foot in the stirrup, stood stock still, half in surprise, half stunned by a sudden and painful thought. Could it be that she was there in hopes of meeting—any one?

He retook his foot from tho stirrup, and relaxing the rein still stood gazing at her over his horse's back. That placid quadruped, whose years had been spent in these pleasant, byways and were too many to warrant an exhibition of coltish surprise, promptly lowered his head and resumed his occupation of grass nibbling, making a little crunching noise which Miss Renwick might have heard, but apparently did not. She was singing very softly to herself: "Daisy, tell my fortune, pray.

He loves inu not—ho loves me."

And still Armitage stood and gazed, while she, absorbed in her pleasant task, still pulled and plucked at the goldenrod. In all his lifo no "vision of fair women" had been to him so fair and sacred and exquisite as this. Down to the tip of her arched and slender foot, peeping from beneath the broidered hem of her snowy skirt, she stood the lady born and bred, and his eyes looked on and worshiped her worshiped, yet questioned, Why came she here? Absorbed, he released his hold on the rein, and Dobbin, nothing loath, reached with his long, lean neck for farther herbage and stepped in among the trees. Still stood his negligent master, fascinated in his study of the lovely, graceful girl. Again she raised her head and looked northward along the winding, shaded wood path. A few yards away were other great clusters of the wild flowers she loved, more sun kissed goldenrod, and, with a little murmur of delight, gathering her dainty skirts in one hand, she flitted up the pathway like an unconscious humming bird garnering the sweets from every blossom. A little farther on tho pathway bent among the trees, and she would be hidden from his sight, but still he stood and studied her every movement, drank in the soft, cooing melody of her voice as she sang, and then there came a sweet, solemn strain from the brown, sunlit walls just visible through the trees, and reverent voices and the resonant chords of the organ thrilled through the listening woods the glorious anthem of the church militant.

At tho first notes she lifted up her queenly head and stqod, listening and appreciative. Then ho saw her rounded throat swelling like a bird's, and the rich, full tones of her voice rang out through the welcoming sunshine, and the fluttering wrens, aud red breasted robins, and rival song queens, the brown winged thrashes—even the impudent shrieking jays—seemed to hush and listen. Dobbin, fairly astonished, lifted up his hollow eyed head and looked amazedly at the white songstress whose scarlet sash and neck ribbons gleamed in such vivid contrast to the foliage «,bout her. A wondering little 'cottontail" rabbit, shy and wild as a hawk, came darting through the bushes into the sunshiny patchwork on the path, and then, uptilted and with quivering ears aud nostrils and wide staring eyes, stood paralyzed with helpless amaze, ignoring the tall man in gray as did the singer herself. Richer, rounder, fuller grew the melody as, abandoning herself to tho impulse of the sacred hour, she joined with all her girlish heart in the words of praise and thanksgiving— in the glad and triumphant chorus of the Te Deum. From beginning to end she sang, now ringing and exultant, now soft and plaintive, following the solemn words of the ritual—swoet and low and suppliant in the petition, "We therefore pray thee help thy servants whom thou hast redeemed with thy precious blood," confident and exulting in the declaration, 'Thou art the king of glory, O Christ!" and then rich with fearless trust and faith in the thrilling climax, "Let me never be confounded." Armitage listened as one in a trance. From the depth of her heart the girl

had joined her glorious voice to the chorus of praise and adoration, and now that all was stilled once more her head had fallen forward on her bosom her hands, laden with goldenrod, were joined together. It seemed as though sho were lost in prayer.

And this was the girl, this the puro, God worshiping, God fearing woman, who for one black instant ho hud dared to fancy had come here expectant of a meeting with the man whose aim had been frustrated but the night beforo! Ho could have thrown himself at her feet and implored her pardon. He did step forth, and then, hat in hand, baring his proud Saxon head as his forefathers would have uncovered to their monarch, he waited until she lifted up her eyes and saw him and knew bv tho look in his frank faco that he had stood by, a mute listener to her unstudied devotions. A lovely flush rose to her very temples, and her eyes drooped their pallid lids until the long lashes swept the crimson of her cheeks. "Hnve vr.-,: been here.

caDtain?

I

never saw you," was her fluttering question.

j:*

Armitaae listened as one in a trance. "I rode in here on my wTayback from the station, not caring to meet all tho good people going to church. I felt like an outcast.'' "I, too, am a recreant today. It is tho first time I have missed service in a long while. Mamma felt too unstrung to come, and I had given up tho idea, but both she aud Aunt Grace urged me. I was too late for tho omnibus find walked up, and then I would not go in because service was begun, and I warned to be home again before noon. I cannot boar to be late at church or to leavj it until everything is over, but I can't be away from mother so long today. Shall wo walk that way now?" "In a minute. I must find my horse. Ho is in here somewhere. Tell me how tho colonel is feeling and Mrs. Maynard." "Both very nervous and worried, though I see nothing extraordinary in tho adventure. We read of poor hungry tramps everywhere, and they rarely do harm.'' "I wonder a littlo at your venturing here in the wood paths after what occurred last night.'' "Why, Captain Armitage, no ono would harm me here, so close to the church. Indeed I never thought of suoh a thing until you mentioned it. Did you discover anything about the man?" "Nothing definite, but I must be at the station again to meet the up train and have to see the colonel meantime. Let me find Dobbin, or whatever they call this venerable relic I'm riding, and then I'll escort you home."

But Dobbin had strayed deeper into the wood. It was some minutes before the captain could find and catch him. The rich melody of sacred music was again thrilling through tho perfumed woods, the glad sunshine was pouring its warmth and blessing over all tho earth, glinting on bluff and brake and palisaded cliff, the birds were all singing their rivaling psaltery, and nature seemed pouring forth its homage to the Creator and Preservei of all on this his holy day, when Frank Armitage once more reached the bowered lane where, fairest, sweetest sight of all, his lady stood waiting him. She turned to him as she heard the hoof beat on the turf' and Smiled. "Can we wait and hear that hymn through?'' "Aye, sing it."

She looted suddenly his face. Something in tho very tone in which he spoke startled her—something deeper, more fervent, than she had ever heard before—and the expression in tho steady, deep blue eyes was another revelation. Alice Renwick had a woman's intuition, and yet sho had not known this man a day. The color again mounted to her temples, and her eyes fell after one quick glance. "I heard you joining in the Te Deum,'' he urged. 'sing once more. I love it. There, they are just beginning again. Do you know the words?''

She nodded, then raised her head, and her glad young voice caroled through the listening woods: "Holy, holy, holyl All

Heaven's triumphant choir shall sing. When the ransomed nations fall At the footstool of their King. Then shall saints and seraphim. Hearts and voices, swell one hymn Around tho throne with full accord. Holy, holy, holy Lord!"

There was silence when the musio ceased. She had turned her face toward the church, and as the melody died away in one prolonged, triumphant ohord she still stood in reverent attitude, as though listening for the words of benediction. He, too, was silent, but his eyes were fixed on her. He was 85, she not 20. He had lived his soldier life wifeless but, like other soldiers, his heart'had had its rubs and aches in the days gone by. Years before he had thought life a black void when the girl he fancied while yet he wore the academic gray calmly told him she preferred another. Nor had the intervening years been devoid of their occasional yearnings for a mate of his own in the isolation of t.Viw ftivnHnr. nf tlio mnnntnnr of garrison life, but flitting fancies had left no trace upon his strong heart. The love of his life only dawned upon him at this late day when he looked into her glorious eyes, and his whole 60ul went out in passionate worship of tho fair girl whoso presence made that sunlit lane a heaven. Were he to live a thousand years, no scene on earth could rival in his eyes the love haunted woodland pathway wherein, like forest queen, sho stood, the sunshine and leafy shadows /lancing over her graceful form, the goldenrod enhancing her dark and glowing beauty, the sacred influences of the day throwing thoir niystio charm about her as though angels guarded and shielded her from harm. His lifo had reached its climax. His fate was sealed.. His heart and soul were centered in one sweet girl, and all in one brief hour in tho woodland lane at Sablon.

She could not fail to seo the deep emotion in his eyes as at last sho turned to break the silence. "'Shall we go?" sho said simply. "It is time, but I wish we could remain.

I

"You do liot go to church very often at Sibley, do you?'' "I have not heretofore, but you would teach me to worship." "Yot. have taught me,'' he muttered below his breath as he extended a hand to assist her down the sloping bank toward the aventie. She looked up quickly once more, pleased, yet shy, and shifted her great bunoli of goldenrod so that she could lay her hand in his and lean upon its steady strength down the incline, and so, hand in hand, with old Dobbin ambling placidly behind, they passed out from the shaded pathway to the glow and radiance of the sunlit road.

CHAPTER XIL

"Colonel Maynard, I admit everything you say as to the weight of the evidence," said Frank Armitage 20 minutes later, "but it is my faith— understand me, my faith, I say—that she is utterly innocent. As for that damnable letter, I do not believe it was ever written to her. It is some other woman." "What other is there, or was there?" was the colonel's simple reply. "That is what I mean to find out. Will you have my baggage sent after me tonight? I am going at onoe to the station, and thence to Sibley. I will write you from there. If the midnight visitor should prove to have been Jerrold, he can be mado to explain. I have always held him to bo a conceited fop, but never either crack brained or devoid of principle. There is no time for explanation now. Goodby and keep a good lookout. That fellow may be here again."

And in an hour nioro Armitage was skimming along tho winding river side en route to Sibley. Ho had searched the train from pilot to rear platform, and no man who in tho faintest degree resembled Mr. Jerrold was on board. He had wired to Chester that ho would reach the fort that evening, but would not resume duty for a few days. He made another search through the train as they ueared tho city, and still there was none who in stature or appearance corresponded with tho descriptions given of the sinewy visitor.

Late in tho afternoon Chester received him as ho alighted from the train at the little station under the cliff. It was a beautiful day, and numbers of people were driving or riding out to the fort, and the high bridge over the gorge was constantly resounding to the thunder of hoofs. Many others, too, had come out on tho train, for the evening dress parade always attracted a swarm ol visitors. A corporal of the guard, with a couple of men, was on hand to keep vigilant eyes on the arrivals aud to persuade certain proscribed parties to reenter the cars and go on, should they attempt to revisit the post, and the faces of these were lighted up as they saw their old adjutant, but none others of the garrison appeared. 'Let us wait a moment and get these people out of the way,'' said Armitage. "I want to talk with you. Is Jerrold back?" "Yes. He came in just 10 minutes after I telegraphed to you, was present at inspection, and if it had not been for your dispatch this morning I should not have known he had remained out of quarters. He appeared to resent my having been to his quarters. Calls it spying, I presume.'' "What permission had lie' to be away?'' "I gave him leave to visit town on personal business yesterday afternoon. He merely asked to be away a few hours to meet friends in town, and Mr. Hall took tattoo roll call for him. As I do not require any other officer to report the time of his return, I did not exaot it of him, but of course no man oan be away after midnight without special permission, aud he was gone all night. What is it, Armitage? Has he followed her down there?" "Somebody was there last night and capsized tho colonel pretty muoh as he did you the night of the ladder episode,'' said Armitage coolly. "By heaven, and I let him go!" "How do you know 'twas he?" "Who else could it be, Armitage?" "That's what the colonel asks, but it isn't clear to me yet awhile." 'I wish it were less clear to me,'' said Chester gloomily. "The worst is that the story is spreading like a pestilence all over the post. The women have got hold of it, and there is all manner of talk. I shouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Hoyt had to be taken violently ill. She has written to invite Mini Renwick to visit her, as it is oertain that Colonel and Mrs. Maynard cannot coma, and Hoyt came to me in a horror of amaze yesterday to know if there were any truth in the rumor that I had oaught a man coming out of Mrs. Maynaxd's window the other night. I would tell him nothing, and he says the ladies declare they won't go to the german if Ehe does. Heavens! I'm thankful you are come. The thing haa been driving me wild these last 12 hours. I wanted to go away myself. Is she ooming up?" "No, she isn't, but let me say this, Chester—that whenever she is ready to return I shall be ready to escort her.''

Chester looked at his friend in amazement and without speaking. "Yes, I see you are astonished, but you may as well understand the situation. I have heard all the colonel could tell and have even seen the letter, and sinco sho left here a mysterious stranger has appeared by night at Sablon, at the cottage window, though it happened to be her mother's this time, and I don't believo Alice Renwick knows the first thing about it.'' "Armitage, are you in love?" "Chester, I am in my sound senses. Now come and show me the ladder and where you found it and tell me the whole story over again. I think it grows interesting. One moment. Has he that picture yet?" "I suppose so. I don't know. In these last few days everybody is fighting shy of him. He thinks it is my doing and looks black and sulky at me, but is too proud or too much afraid of consequences to ask the reason of the cold

shoulders and averted looks. Gray has taken seven days' leave and gone off with that littlo girl of his to place her with relatives in the east He has heard the stories, and it is presumed that some of the women have told her. She was down sick here a day or two." "Well, now for the window and the ladder. I want to see the outside through your eyes, and then I will view the interior with my own. The colonel bids me do so."

Together they slowly climbed the long stairway leading up the face of the cliff. Chester stopped for a breathing spell more than once. "You're all out of condition, man," said the younger captain, pausing impatiently. "What has undone you?" 'This trouble and nothing else. By gad, it ha3 unstrung the whole garrison, I believe. You never saw our people fall off so in their shooting. Of course we expected Jerrold to go to pieces, but nobody else." "There were others that seemed to fall away too. Where was that cavalry team that was expected to take the skirmish medal away from us?" "Sound as a dollar, every man, with the single exception of their big sergeant. I don't like to make ugly comparisons with a man whom I believe to be more than half interested in a woman, but it makes me think of the old story about Medusa. One look at her face is too much for a man. That Sergeant McLeod went to grass the instant he caught sight of her and never has picked up since.'' "Consider mo considerably more than half interested in the woman in this case, Chester. Make all tho comparisons that you like, provided they illumine matters as you are doing now, and toll mo more of this Sergeant McLeod. What do you mean by his catching sight of her and going to grass?" "I mean he fell flat on his faco tho moment he saw her and hasn't been in good form from that moment to this. The doctor says it's heart disease." 'That's what the colonel says troubles Mrs. Maynard. She was senseless and almost pulseless some minutes last night. What manner of man is McLeod?" "A tall, slim, dark eyed, swarthy fellow, a man with a history and a mystery, I judge.'' "A man with a history, a mystery, who is tall, slim, has dark eyes and swarthy complexion and faintn away at sight of Miss Renwick might be said t-y possess peculiar characteristics, family traits, some of them. Of course you've kept an eye on McLeod. Where is he?"

Chester stood leaning on tho mil, breathing slowly and heavily. His eyes dilated as ho gazed at Armitage, who was surveying him coolly, though the tone in which he spoke betrayed a new interest and a vivid one. "I confess I never thought of him in connection with this affair,'' said Chester. "There's the one essential point of difference between us,'' was the reply. "You go in on tho supposition tlmt there is only one solution to this thing, and that a woman must be dishonored to begin with. I believe there cui be several solutions, aud that there is only one thing in the lot that is at all impossible." "What's that?" "Miss Renwick's knowledge of that night's visitor or of any other secret or Bin. I mean to wrork other theories first, and the McLeod trail is a good one to (Start on. Where can I get a look at him?" "Somewhere out in the Rockies by this time. He was ordered back to his troop five days ago, and they are out scouting at this moment unless I'm vastly mistaken. You have seen the morning dispatches?" "About tho Indians? Yes. Looks squally at tho Spirit Rock reservation. Do you mean that McLeod is there?" "That's where his troop ought to be by this time. There is too small a force on the trail now, and more will have to go if a big outbreak is to be prevented.'' "Then he has fjone, and I cannot see him. Let me look .-it the window then.''

A few steps brought them to the terrace, and there, standing by the west wall and looking up at the closed slats of the dormer window, Captain Chester retold tho story of his night adventure. Armitage listened attentively, asking few questions. When it was finished, the latter turned and walked to the rear door, which opened on the terrace. It was locked. "The servants are having a holiday, I presume," he said." "So muoh the better. Ask the quartermaster for the key of the front door, and I'll go in while everybody is out looking at dress parade. There goes first call now. Let your orderly bring It to me here, will you?''

Ten minutes later, with beating heart, he stood and uncovered his handsome head and gazed silently, reverently around him. He was in her room.

It was dainty as her own dainty self. The dressing table, the windows, the

pretty white bed, the broad, inviting lounge, the work table and basket, the very washstand, were all trimmed and decked alike, white and yellow prevailing. White lace curtains draped the window on the west—that fateful window—and the two that opened out on the roof of the piazza. White lace curtains draped the bed, the dressing table and the washstand. White lace or some equally flimsy and feminine material hung about her bookshelves and worktable and over the lounge, and bows of bright yellow ribbon were everywhere, yellow pincushions and wall pockets hung about the toilet table, soft yellow rugs lay at the bed and lounge side, and a sunshiny tone was given to the whole apartment by the shades of yellow silk that hung close to the windows.

On tho wall were some choice etchings and a few foreign photographs On the bookshelves were a few volumes of poetry and the prose of George Eliot aud our own Hawthorne. Hanging on pegs in tho corner of tho simple army room, covered by a curtain, were some

heavy outer garments, an ulster, a traveling coat and cape of English make and one or two dresses that were apparently too thick to be used at this season of the year. He drew aside the curtain one moment, took a brief glance at the garments, raised the hem of a skirt to his

:lips

and turned quickly

away. A door led from the room to the one behind it, a spare bedroom evidently, that was lighted only from the back of the house and had no side window at alL Another door led to the hall, a broad, old fashioned affair, and crossing this he stood in the big front room occupied by the colonel and his wife. This was furnished almost as luxuriously, from an army point of view, as that of Miss Renwick, but not in white and yel-1 low.

Armitage smiled to see the evidences of Mrs. Maynard's taste and handiwork on every side. In the years he had been the old soldier's adjutant nothing could have exceeded the simplicity with which the colonel surrounded himself. Now it was something akin to Sybaritish elegance, thought the captain, but all the same he made his deliberate survey. There was the big dressing table and bureau on which had stood that ravished picture, that photograph of tho girl he loved which others wero able to speak of and ono man to appropriate feloniously, while yet he had never seen it. His impulse was to go to Jerrold's quarters and take him by tho throat and demand it cf him, but what right had he? How knew ho even that it was now there? In view of the words that Chester had used toward him, Jerrold must know of the grievous danger in which ho stood. That photograph would provo most damaging evidence if discovered. Very probably, after yielding to his vanity and showing it to Sloat, ho meant to get it back. Very certainly, after hearing Chester's words, he must have determined to lose no time in getting rid of it. He was no fool if ho was a coxcomb.

Looking around tho half darkened room, Armitago lingered long over tho photographs which hung about the dressing table and over tho mantel, several prettily framed duplicates of those already described as appearing in the album. Ono after another ho took them in his hands, bore them to the window and studied them attentively. Some were not replaced without a long, lingering kiss. He had not ventured to disturb an item in her room. He would not touch the knob of a drawer or attempt to open anything shj had closed, but here in quarters where his colonel could claim joint partnership ho felt loss sentiment or delicacy. He closed the hall door and tried the look, turning tho knob to and fro. Then ho reopened tho door and swung it upon its hinges. For a wonder neither lock nor hinges creaked. The door worked smoothly and wdth little noise. Then he similarly tried the door of her rcf m. It was in equally good working order, quite free from squeak and complaint with which quartermasters' locks and hinges aro apt to do their reluctant duty. Tho discovery pleased him. It was possiblo for one to open and close these portals noiselessly, if need be, and without disturbing sleepers in either room.

Returning to the east chamber, ho opened the shades, so as to get more light, and his eye fell upon an old album lying on a littlo table that stood by tho bedside. Thcro was a night lamp upon the table, too, a little affair that could hold only a thimbleful of oil and was intended evidently to keep merely a faint glow during tho night hours. Other volumes—a Bible, somo devotional books, like 'The Changed Cross,'' aud a hymnal or two—were also there, but tho allium stood most prominent, and Armitage curiously took it up and opened it.

There were only half a dozen photographs in the affair. It was rather a case than an album and was intended apparently for only a few family pictures. There was but ono that interested him, and this he examined intently, almost excitedly. It represented a little girl of 9 or 10 years—Alice undoubtedly—with her arms clasped about the neck of a magnificent St. Bernard dog and looking up into tho handsome features of a tall, slender, dark eyed, black haired boy of 16 or thereabouts, and the two were enough alike to bo brother and sister. Who, then, was this boy?

Armitage took the photograph to the window and studied it carefully. Parade was over, and the troops wrere marching back to their quarters. The band was playing gloriously as it came tramping ir.to the quadrangle, and the captain could not but glance out at his own old company as in compact column of fours it entered the grassy diamond and swung off toward the barracks. He saw a knot of officers, too, turning the corner by the adjutant's office, and for a. moment ho lowered tho album to look.

Mr. Jerrold was not of the number that camo sauntering up tho walk, dropping away by one.? or twos as they reached their doors and unbuckled their belts or removed their helmets in eager

haste to get out of the constraint of full dress. But in another moment Jerrold, too, appeared all alone, walking rapidly and nervously. Armitage watohed him and could not but see how other men turned away or gave him the coolest possible nod as he passed. The tall, lender lieutenant was handsomer even than when he last saw him, and yet there wero gloom and worry on the dark beauty of his face. Nearer and nearer he came and had passed the quarters of tho other officers and was almost at the door of his own when Armitago saw a little, wiry soldier in full dress uniform running across the parade as though in pursuit. He recognized Merrick, one of tho scapegraoes of his company, and wondered why he should bo chasing after his temporary commander. Just as Jerrold was turning under tho piazza the soldier seemed to mako himself heard, and the lieutenant, with an angry frown on his face, stopped and confronted him.

[TO HK contixukdJ