ergeant and two men,
mounted and each leading a spare horse, appeared under Ferry's gallery,
and that officer proceeded to occupy one of the vacant saddles, and,
followed by his party, went clattering out of the sally-port and
splashing over to the levee. Stable-call sounded as usual at four
o'clock, and, for the first time in the record of that disciplined
organization since the devastating hand of Yellow Jack was laid upon it
the previous year, no officer appeared to supervise the grooming and
feeding. Two of them were at the post, however. Mr. Doyle, in arrest on
charge of absence without leave, was escorted to his quarters about
four-fifteen, and was promptly visited by sympathizing and inquisitive
comrades from the Hotel Finkbein, while Mr. Ferry, who had effected the
arrest, was detained making his report to the post commander. Night came
on apace, the wind began to die away with the going down of the sun, the
rain ceased to fall, a pallid moon began peering at odd intervals
through rifts in the cloudy veil, when Cram rode splashing into
barracks, worn with anxiety and care, at eleven o'clock, and, stopping
only for a moment to take his wife in his arms and kiss her anxious face
and shake his head in response to her eager query for news of Waring, he
hurried down-stairs again and over to Doyle's quarters. All was darkness
there, but he never hesitated. Tramping loudly over the gallery, he
banged at the door, then, turning the knob, intending to burst right in,
as was the way in the rough old days, was surprised to find the bolt
set.

"Doyle, open. I want to see you at once."

All silence within.

"Doyle, open, or, if you are too drunk to get up, I'll kick in the
door."

A groan, a whispered colloquy, then the rattle of bolt and chain. The
door opened about an inch, and an oily Irish voice inquired,--

"Hwat's wanted, capt'in?"

"You here?" exclaimed Cram, in disgust. "What business have you in this
garrison? If the colonel knew it, you'd be driven out at the point of
the bayonet."

"Sure where should wife be but at her husband's side whin he's sick and
sufferin'? Didn't they root him out of bed and comfort this day and ride
him down like a felon in all the storm? Sure it was the doughboys'
orders, sir. I told Doyle the capt'in niver would have----"

"Oh, be quiet: I must see Doyle, and at once."

"Sure he's not able, capt'in. You know how it is wid him: he's that
sinsitive he couldn't bear to talk of t