Lanier of the Cavalry Part 11

The matter was now in the hands of Colonel Riggs, however, and it was his to determine what further action to take. Snaffle had named as his witness Sergeant Fitzroy, Private Kelley (who, though drunk on duty, had not been so drunk, said Snaffle and Fitzroy, that he could not recognize an officer when he saw him), and the third witness, to the amaze of Barker and the derision of Ennis, when told of it, was no less a person than poor Tom Rafferty, Lanier's own "striker" and hitherto devoted henchman. And to the consternation of Stannard, Sumter, and others, Captain Snaffle had been able to back his words. Riggs sent for the two availables, Fitzroy and Kelly, and the two had declared they could not be mistaken; that they had heard Miss Arnold's scream, followed instantly by the crash of gla.s.s. Fitzroy admitted that he was at the moment at Captain Snaffle's back door; said he ran round to the Sumters'

gate; that he distinctly saw the figure of a man in a soldier's overcoat and fur cap leaping and sliding down the roof, and that a moment later he grappled with it in the dark woodshed, dropping his hold only when angrily ordered to do so, the voice adding instantly, "I'm Lieutenant Lanier." Kelly was ready to swear to practically the same facts, though he "thought there was two of them," which, under the circ.u.mstances, was not to be wondered at. Fitzroy declared that a moment later Rafferty rushed to the spot, recognized the lieutenant, and by him was sternly ordered to leave. As yet Rafferty was in no condition to affirm or deny.

The excitement of the fire had brought on a relapse, and the wild Irishman was wilder than ever, "raving-like," as the steward said, in the big post hospital.

And these statements, presently, did Colonel Riggs lay before Lieutenant Lanier, in presence of Doctors Larrabee and Schuchardt, as well as Lieutenant Ennis. "I've known you three years, young sir," said he, "and I've believed in you from the first. I have reminded Sergeant Fitzroy of his previous allegations against Trooper Rawdon, as to the scuffle and a.s.sault, and, so far from showing confusion, Fitzroy promptly said, 'Certainly, that took place barely half a minute later and within ten yards of the spot.' He says his whole idea first was to drive Rawdon from the scene, and prevent his finding his officer in so humiliating a plight. He says he sought in every way at first to s.h.i.+eld the lieutenant, but when all these other facts came out about the cap, the clothing, the lieutenant's absence from his quarters, his lacerated hand, etc., there was no help for it. He finally yielded to the pressure of Captain Snaffle's questions and told the truth. Kelly miserably admitted his knowledge of it and when Rafferty came to his senses, he, too, was to be catechised."

"Now, Mr. Lanier, there's the situation. Do you care to say anything to me, or would you prefer to take counsel?"

And Bob Lanier leaning on his elbow, looked quietly up in the colonel's bearded face and answered:

"Colonel Riggs, I reckon both those men think they're telling the truth, and I may have to prove they're not."

"Do you mean--you _were_ there?" queried old Riggs, in genuine concern.

"There, sir? Of _course_ I was there--quick as I could get there, but not quick enough by any manner of means."

Riggs looked grave indeed.

"You say you may have to prove it was not you. Don't you _know_ you'll have to--if these witnesses are further sustained?"

"Fully, sir, and when my need is known there will be witnesses for the defense. The doctors tell me Rafferty may not come round in less than a week. When the time arrives I'll be ready."

And that was the way it had to be left. That was the condition of affairs when the eighth, and final, day of Lanier's close arrest arrived. Longer than eight, according to law, the colonel could not keep him in. Sooner than eight more, according to Larrabee, the doctors could not let him out. Yet there came a compromise and a change. "The idea of Bob Lanier spending Christmas in hospital!" said Mrs. Stannard. It was not to be thought of. A suns.h.i.+ny room on the ground floor of the major's big house was duly prepared, and thither just before sunset on Christmas eve our young soldier was piloted by Schuchardt and Ennis, making the trip afoot across the rearward s.p.a.ce, yet being remanded to a huge easy chair and partial bandages immediately on his arrival.

"Black Bill," with his incomplete report, had gone back to Omaha to further mystify the adjutant-general and to eat his Christmas dinner.

The order for the court-martial hung fire until the preliminary investigation could be concluded. Fort Cus.h.i.+ng set itself to enjoy the sweet festival as best it might, while such a problem remained unsolved.

Veterinary Surgeon Mayhew had taken seven days' leave, an eastbound train, and at three P.M. the day before Christmas came a telegram from ---- Arnold, Esq., of Standish Bay, Ma.s.sachusetts, announcing that he would leave forthwith for the West, bringing his sister with him. The Sumters told Mrs. Stannard, and she told Bob Lanier.

It has been said that this young gentleman was an outspoken fellow, with a hit-or-miss way of saying things when once his mind was made up, and by this time it would seem he had made up his mind.

"Mrs. Stannard, if you think a girl could stand the sight of such a Guy Fawkes as this, I would give much to speak ten minutes to Miss Miriam Arnold."

"You're _not_ a Guy Fawkes," said Mrs. Stannard, with fluttering heart.

"You've lost something of your mustache and eyebrows, but very little of your good looks. Only----"

"Only what?"

"Why, it's going to be so much harder to see her _now_ than it was before--before she----" and Mrs. Stannard faltered.

"Before she saw me playing Saint Somebody or other at the back window, and screamed? n.o.body knows _I_ heard it except you, and you won't tell.

Moreover, it isn't about _that_ that I have to speak."

Mrs. Stannard's bonny face showed instant disappointment.

"There's--there's another matter," said Bob, with trouble in his tones.

"I so hoped----" faltered that arch match-maker.

"So did I, Mrs. Stannard," said downright Bob, "but not with charges hanging over my head. First I've got to meet the enemy."

And yet he wished to see and speak with Miriam, who not once had set foot out of doors since the night of the fire, whose sweet face flamed at every recurring thought of that incident, whose self-betrayal covered her with shame and confusion indescribable, who would give years of her young life if she could only escape from Fort Cus.h.i.+ng and hide herself a thousand miles away. But not until that stern puritanical father should arrive was leaving to be thought of. A week agone and the tidings of his coming would have filled her with dread; now she heard them with relief.

Father coming--and Aunt Agnes! Aunt Agnes, who never before had been west of the Hudson. Aunt Agnes, whose forebears had warred against witchcraft and woodcraft, against village crones and forest children, against helpless old women and stealthy young savages--all without mercy when delivered into their hands! Was it in partial reparation for the rapine, the swindling, and stealing dealt out by her Pilgrim forefathers to the Indian of the East that Aunt Agnes had become the vehement champion of the Indian of the West? President of a famous Peace Society was she, and secretary of the Standish Branch of the Friends of the Red Man, a race whom the original and redoubtable Miles had spitted and skewered and shot without stint or discrimination. And now was Aunt Agnes hastening westward with her brother, to reclaim their one ewe lamb from the wolf pack of the wilds, and incidentally to see for herself something of the haunts and habits of the red brother in whose behalf, these last six months, her voice had been uplifted time and again. It was the year of a great Indian war. The blood of hundreds of our soldiery had been shed, without protest from these of Puritan stock, but they shuddered at thought of reprisals. Aunt Agnes coming to Cus.h.i.+ng!

Aunt Agnes to meet the colonel and his "red-handed horde of ruthless slayers!"

No wonder the Christmas day that dawned for Miriam Arnold in that stirring Centennial year bade fair to be the gloomiest of her life. Yet who can tell what a day may bring forth?

Sumter came in, cheery and laughing, for the late family breakfast.

Guard-mounting was long over, but he had been detained by the colonel.

"It is almost comical," said he, "to see b.u.t.ton's delight in those letters in the New York papers. He's as curious now to know the author of those as he was furious at the supposed author of the others."

"What others?" faltered Miriam Arnold, her eyes filling with strange apprehension, her face visibly paling.

"Some bitter attacks on him that appeared in the Boston and Philadelphia papers about that night surprise of Lone Wolf's village--the one he accused Mr. Lanier of having started."

"Accused--Mr. Lanier!" And Miriam Arnold, with consternation in her voice, was half rising from the table.

"I had thought it best to say nothing to you about it, Miriam dear,"

said Mrs. Sumter gently. "You had so many worries."

"But Mrs. Sumter! Captain!" interrupted Miriam, wild-eyed. "Do you mean Colonel b.u.t.ton accused Mr. _Lanier_ of those letters?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "BUT DO YOU MEAN COLONEL b.u.t.tON ACCUSED MR. LANIER OF THOSE LETTERS?"]

"That was the backbone of his grievance against Lanier," said Sumter gravely, and intently studying her face. "Why?"

"And he didn't--deny it? Didn't--tell what he knew?"

"Denied it, yes, but refused to tell what he knew--said it came in such a way he could not tell. Why, Miriam, what do _you_ know?"

For a moment it looked as though she were on the verge of hysterical breakdown. Kate sprang to her side and threw an arm around her, but with gallant effort she regained self-control.

"I know _just_ who wrote those wicked stories, and I told Mr. Lanier; and I know--and I'm ashamed I ever _had_ to know--who first told them."

XIII

Stannard had been summoned to Omaha, much to b.u.t.ton's curiosity and disquiet. Mrs. Stannard, left temporarily widowed, was none the less radiant. A romance was unfolding right under her roof, and the heart of the woman was glad. Her patient was sitting up in spick and span uniform and a suns.h.i.+ny parlor. Plainly furnished as were the frontier quarters of that day and generation, the room looked very bright and cosey this crisp December evening. Christmas had come and gone with but faint celebration, as compared with former years. There had been several callers, masculine and regimental, during the earlier afternoon, but now they were off for stables. There had been an influx of army wives and daughters, to wish Bob Lanier many happy returns, for this was his birthday. Shrewd woman, with all her gentle kindliness and tact, was Mrs. Stannard. She had sent word to all her cronies of the interesting event and suggested a call. More significance, therefore, would be attached to a neglect to an acceptance of the hint. Perhaps this is how it happened that just about four P.M., when most people were gone, Mrs.

Sumter came quietly, cheerily, convoying her two girls, and presently Bob Lanier was smiling into the eyes of Miriam Arnold, whose hand he took last and clung to longest of the three.

Not since the night of the fire had he set eyes on her. Not since the night of the dance had he spoken with her, and he was startled to see the change. Bravely though she bore herself, the flush that mantled her cheek was but momentary, and left her pallid and wan. Miriam looked as though she had been seriously ill. Kate Sumter had given him only hurried and almost embarra.s.sed words of greeting. Mrs. Sumter, however, had extended both her hands in an impulse of loyal liking and friends.h.i.+p, and it is doubtful if Bob even saw the daughter's face.

Certainly he never noted the lack of heart in her manner. His eyes had flitted almost instantly to Miriam Arnold's, and there they hung. A few minutes of swift, purposeless chat ensued, Mrs. Stannard and Mrs. Sumter doing most of it. Then, somehow, three women seemed to drift away and become engrossed in matters of their own over by the Navajo-covered lounge, and then Miriam lifted up her eyes and looked one moment into the young soldier's face.

The bandages had been removed, though his left hand was still encased in a huge white kid glove, a discard from the hand of Ennis. Eyebrows and mustache had suffered much, and a red streak ran from the left temple down toward the neck, yet Bob looked fit and debonair and happy in spite of his weight of martial woes.

"It's the first chance I've had to thank you for the dance we--didn't finish," said he, noting with a thrill the tremor of the little hand that fluttered for that moment in his grasp.