Captain Rayner turned sharply on his heel and stepped back into the waiting-room.  Mr. Ross nudged a brother lieutenant and whispered, “By gad! that’s awkward for Midas!” The two subalterns who had taken the wrong turn at the top of the stairs reappeared there just as the rescuer shot past them on his way back, and stood staring, first after his disappearing form, and then at each other.  Miss Travers, with wonder and relief curiously mingled in her sweet face, clung to her restored kitten and gazed vacantly up the stairs.

Mrs. Rayner looked confusedly from one to the other, quickly noting the constraint in the manner of every officer present and the sudden disappearance of her husband.  There was an odd silence for a moment:  then she spoke: 

“Mr. Ross, do you know that gentleman?”

“I know who he is.  Yes.”

“Who is he, then?”

“He is your husband’s new first lieutenant, Mrs. Rayner.  That is Mr. Hayne.”

“That!—­Mr. Hayne?” she exclaimed, growing suddenly pale.

“Certainly, madame.  Had you never seen him before?”

“Never; and I expected—­I didn’t expect to see such a—­” And she broke short off, confused and plainly distressed, turned abruptly, and left the hall as had her husband.

III.

The officers of Fort Warrener were assembled, as was the daily morning custom, in the presence of the colonel commanding.  It had long been the practice of that veteran soldier to require all his commissioned subordinates to put in an appearance at his office immediately after the ceremony of guard-mounting.  He might have nothing to say to them, or he might have a good deal; and he was a man capable of saying a good deal in very few words, and meaning exactly what he said.  It was his custom to look up from his writing as each officer entered and respond to the respectful salutation tendered him with an equally punctilious “Good-morning, Captain Gregg,” or “Good-morning, Mr. Blake,”—­never omitting the mention of the name, unless, as was sometimes tried, a squad of them came in together and made their obeisance as a body.  In this event the colonel simply looked each man in the face, as though taking mental note of the individual constituents of the group, and contented himself with a “Good-morning, gentlemen.”

When in addition to six troops of his own regiment of cavalry there were sent to the post a major and four companies of infantry, some of the junior officers of the latter organization had suggested to their comrades of the yellow stripes that as the colonel had no roll-call it might be a matter of no great risk to “cut the matinee” on some of the fiendishly cold mornings that soon set in; but the experiment was never designedly tried, thanks, possibly, to the frank exposition of his personal views as expressed by Lieutenant Blake, of the cavalry, who said, “Try it if you are stagnating for want of a sensation, my genial plodder, but not if you value the advice of one who has been there, so to speak.  The chief will spot you quicker than he can a missing shoe,—­a missing horseshoe, Johnny, let me elaborate for your comprehension,—­and the next question will be, ’Mr. Bluestrap, did you intentionally absent yourself?’ and then how will you get out of it?”