y there; and so the major was left alone. He sat some five
minutes looking over an album or two, poured out and drank another
glass of wine, and bethought him that Bayard had told him if ever he
felt like smoking to go right into his study and help himself. Now was
the very time. A dozen strides brought him to the broad-topped
library-table littered with books, pamphlets, papers of all kinds, and
among them the inviting-looking brown box. Another moment, and,
ensconced in the big easy-chair, with a fragrant Regalia between his
lips and a late New York paper in his hand, the major was forgetting
the perplexities of the day. The reading-lamp he found lighted threw a
bright glow upon the paper in his hand, but left the apartment in
darkness. Out in the kitchen he could faintly hear the voices of the
domestics and the sound of crockery and glass in process of cleaning,
above-stairs the murmur of softer tongues. All in the front part of the
house on the first floor was silent. Presently, out on the parade the
bugler began to sound the signal, "taps," to extinguish lights, and at
the same moment Miller heard the click of the latch at the front door.
There had been no footsteps that he could hear, and he thought he might
be mistaken. He listened intently, and presently click, click, it went
again. Odd, thought Miller. That is not the way a man enters his own
house, nor does it sound like the way an honest man enters any one
else's. Click, click, again, louder and more forcibly now. Some one was
plainly trying to open that door without attracting the attention of
the occupants. What if now he should be able to surprise the prowler?
What if this should, indeed, prove to be some one bent on larceny or
worse? Now was an excellent time. The doctor was known to be
away,--over at the hospital. Miss Bayard was known to be up-stairs,
confined to her room. Very probably the thief had watched the movements
of the post surgeon, knew he would be detained some time, and--there
were all those pretty nicknacks in the parlor. There was that handsome
silver in the dining-room (it was always in the doctor's strong box
under the bed at night). What more likely than that now was the time
selected by some sharp sneak-thief in the garrison to slink through the
shadows of the night to the doctor's quarters, slip in the front way
while the servants were all chattering and laughing in the kitchen in
the rear, and make off with his plunder? It was an insp