of his mighty
regiment with coffee and good cheer illimitable, and the colonel swore a
mighty oath and pounced on his luckless officer-of-the-guard. He had
served as a subaltern many a year in the old army, and knew how it was
done.

"Didn't I give you personal and positive orders not to let anything or
anybody occupy this space after the baggage was got aboard, sir?" he
demanded.

"You did, sir," said the unabashed lieutenant, pulling a folded paper
from his belt, "and the Red Cross got word to the general and what the
Red Cross says--_goes_. Look at that!"

The colonel looked, read, looked dazed, scratched his head and said:
"Well, I'm damned!" Then he turned to his adjutant. "You were with me
when I saw the general last night and he told me to put this guard on and
keep this space clear. Now, what d'you say to that?"

The adjutant glanced over the penciled lines. "Well," said he, "if you
s'pose any order that discriminates against the Red Cross is going to
hold good, once they find it out, you're bound to get left. They're
feasting the first company now, sir; shall I have it stopped?" and there
was a grin under the young soldier's mustache. The colonel paused one
moment, shook his head and concluded he, too, would better grin and bear
it. Taking the paper in his hand again he heard his name called and saw
smiling faces and beckoning hands in an open carriage near him, but the
sight of Stanley Armstrong, signalling to him from another, farther away,
had something dominant about it. "With you in a minute," he called to
those who first had summoned him. "What is it, Armstrong?"

"I wish to present you to some friends of mine--Miss Lawrence--Miss
Prime--Mr. Prime--my old associate, Colonel Stewart. Pardon me, Mrs.
Garrison. I did not see you had returned." She had, and was once more
perched upon the step. "Mrs. Garrison--Colonel Stewart. What we need to
know, Stewart, is this: Will all your men board the ship by this stage,
or will some go aft?"

"All by _this_ stage--why?"

But the colonel felt a somewhat massive hand crushing down on his own and
forebore to press the question. Armstrong let no pause ensue. He spoke,
rapidly for him, bending forward, too, and speaking low; but even as she
chatted and laughed, the little woman on the carriage step saw, even
though she did not seem to look, heard, even though she did not seem to
listen:

"An awkward thing has happened. The General's tent was robbed of
importan