on Bareaud had described it best when she told Crailey one day,
with a sudden hint of apprehensive tears, that he had a "look of fate."

Tom took his own time in coming; he had stayed at the club to go over
his lists--so he had told Crailey--with the General and old Bareaud.
His company was almost complete, and Crailey had been the first to
volunteer, to the dumfounding of Trumble, who had proceeded to drink his
health again and again. But the lists could not detain Tom two hours,
Crailey knew, and it was two hours since the new volunteers had sung
"The Star Spangled Banner" over the last of the punch, and had left the
club to Tom and the two old men. Only once or twice in that time had
Crailey shifted his position, or altered the direction of his set gaze
at nothing. But at last he rose, went to the window and, leaning far
out, looked down the street toward the little clubhouse. Its lights were
extinguished and all was dark up and down the street. Abruptly Crailey
went back to the desk and blew out the candle, after which he sat down
again in the same position. Twenty minutes later he heard Tom's step on
the stair, coming up very softly. Crailey waited in silence until his
partner reached the landing, then relit the candle.

"Tom," he called. "Come in, please, I've been waiting for you."

There was a pause before Tom answered from the hall:

"I'm very tired, Crailey. I think I'll go up to bed."

"No," said Crailey, "come in."

The door was already open, but Tom turned toward it reluctantly. He
stopped at the threshold and the two looked at each other.

"I thought you wouldn't come as long as you believed I was up," said
Crailey, "so I blew out the light. I'm sorry I kept you outside so
long."

"Crailey, I'm going away to-morrow," the other began. "I am to go over
and see the Governor and offer him this company, and to-night I need
sleep, so please--"

"No," interrupted Crailey quietly, "I want to know what you're going
to do."

"To do about what?"

"About me."

"Oh!" Tom's eyes fell at once from his friend's face and rested upon
the floor. Slowly he walked to the desk and stood in embarrassed
contemplation of the littered books and papers, while the other waited.

"I think it's best for you to tell me," said Crailey.

"You think so?" Tom's embarrassment increased visibly, and there was
mingled with it an odd appearance of apprehension, probably to relieve
which he very deliberately took two long cheroo