ing
in on the wires, was written out, and handed to the tall soldier with
the tired blue eyes.

He read, started, crushed the paper in his hand, and turned from the
office. The answer was significant:

"Lieutenant Jerrold left Sibley yesterday afternoon. Not yet returned.
Absent without leave this morning.

"CHESTER."

XI.

Nature never vouchsafed to wearied man 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 worshippers,
and farther away, down the vista of the road, Armitage could see others
on foot and in carriages, 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 the night was pretty thoroughly circulated by this time, he felt
assured, and every 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 been dilating upon ever since daybreak. He dreaded
to meet the curious glances of the women, and the questions of the few
men whom he had taken so far into his confidence as to ask about the
mysterious person who came over in the stage with them. He reined up his
horse, and then, seeing a little pathway leading into the thick wood to
his right, he turned in thither and followed it some fifty yards among
bordering treasures of coreopsis and golden-rod and wild luxuriance of
vine and foliage. Dismounting in the shade, he threw the reins over his
arm and let his horse crop the juicy grasses, while he 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