--and might wander the live-long night about the post at will.
Trooper Blaney or Private Rentz, on the contrary, might toss for hours
on sleepless pillow, and could only grin and bear it. It meant so many
dollars "blind," or such other punishment as a court-martial might
inflict to a soldier caught out of barracks after the sound of the
signal to extinguish lights.

Already, in the quarters of his next-door neighbor, the adjutant, the
parlor was darkened, and except for the studious head of the family, now
poring over some precious volume in the privacy of his den, the
household had gone aloft. Davies paused a moment, irresolute. To his
right the walk extended only a short distance. There were but two more
houses. To his left lay the main length of the line,--the colonel's, the
surgeon's, the cavalry commander's, and most of the captains'.
Cranston's roof, however, was one of the two to the right, and thither
Davies turned. Dim lights were burning in the little army parlor, as he
could see through the half-drawn curtain. A shadow flitted across the
dormer window above him,--Mrs. Cranston's. The other windows in the
upper floor were dark. He wanted to go in and commune with Cranston, the
man of all others whom he most liked, but he shrank from ringing their
bell at so late an hour. Elsewhere along the row many a window was
brilliantly illuminated and the social life of the post seemed in full
flow. The Cranstons were home-keeping folk as a rule, "not at all
sociable," said some of the dames of the Fortieth, and yet they were
highly regarded throughout the garrison.

Except for a mere bow, as they were going to morning service, he had not
met Mrs. Cranston or Miss Loomis since the dinner of Thursday
evening,--the evening of Almira's provincial display of endearments, for
between Katty and Striker Barnickel they had been enabled to breakfast
at Boynton's quarters, and had lunched and dined elsewhere among the
many hospitably disposed throughout the garrison. Davies wanted to see
and talk with the captain, but to-night he shrank unaccountably from
meeting either of the ladies. It is under such circumstances that many a
man finds Fate unkind. Even as he stood there the hall door flew open
and a bright beam from the astral lamp within shot athwart the road. A
blithe voice called back in answer to some presumable remonstrance.
"What nonsense, Margaret! I can run over there as well as not and be
back in a moment." The door clo