e shoulder in a salute that made his musket ring, a casual observer
would have said that Mr. Ray was showing his visitors to their
carriage. The door shut with a snap, the horses started with a crack of
the whip, and in another moment the silent quartette were whirled away
through the east gate before anybody "up the row" was fully aware of
what was going on.

Meantime, there had been a night of misery elsewhere in the garrison.
Mrs. Stannard had asked permission of the officer of the day to go to
Ray with the doctor at nine o'clock; the officer of the day said he
would go and see the colonel and let her know. He went, but did not
return. At ten o'clock Mrs. Stannard wrote a note to the colonel, and
that punctilious soldier replied through his adjutant at half-past ten.
He was very sorry, but for several reasons he was compelled to refuse
all applications to see Mr. Ray until the morrow. Mrs. Stannard in her
indignation could hardly find words to thank Mr. Warner for the courtesy
he personally displayed in the matter. She sent a servant to the
corporal of the guard to ask him to say to Mr. Blake that she desired
earnestly to see him a moment; the corporal said he would as soon as he
had posted the next sentry; but he forgot it until long after eleven,
owing to an excitement over in the band quarters, and then Blake thought
it best to wait until morning, and so it happened that one woman whose
heart was full of faith in and sympathy for Ray was balked of her desire
to send him full assurance of her thought for him. She could not sleep,
however, and at midnight walked alone down the row and asked the soldier
at the gate to give this little note for Ray to the sentinel within, but
the man came sadly and respectfully back. The sentry dare not pass it
in: it was against his orders. She looked wistfully at the dim light
showing through the curtains of the front room, but turned wearily away.
A dim light was burning, too, in Mrs. Truscott's room up the row, and
she tapped softly at the door, thinking that, like herself, they might
be still awake; but no answer came, and, at last, she went to her own
lonely quarters. Oh, how she longed for her brave, blunt, outspoken Luce
that night! He could find a way of helping Ray, and would do it despite
all the official trammels that the post commander could devise. She was
sick at heart, but next door lay a woman whose unrest was greater still,
whose trouble seemed more than she could bea