“I’ll answer for myself, Buxton,” said Blake, “and you can do as, you please.  Except that one thing, and the not unusual frivolities of a youngster that occurred previous to his trial, I understand that his character has been above reproach.  So far as I can learn, he is a far more reputable character than I am, and a better officer than most of us.  Growl all you want to, comrades mine:  ’it’s a way we have in the army,’ and I like it.  So long as I include myself in these malodorous comparisons, you needn’t swear.  It is my conviction that the Riflers wouldn’t say he was guilty to-day if they hadn’t said so five years ago.  It is my information that he has paid every cent of the damages, whether he caused them or not, and it is my intention to go and call upon Mr. Hayne as soon as he’s settled.  I don’t propose to influence any man in his action; and excuse me, Buxton, I think you did.”

The captain looked wrathful.  Blake was an oddity, of whom he rather stood in awe, for there was no mistaking the popularity and respect in which he was held in his own regiment.  The ——­th was somewhat remarkable for being emphatically an “outspoken crowd,” and for some years, thanks to a leaven of strong and truthful men in whom this trait was pronounced and sustained, it had grown to be the custom of all but a few of the officers to discuss openly and fully all matters of regimental policy and utterly to discountenance covert action of any kind.  Blake was thoroughly popular, and generally respected, despite a tendency to rant and rattle on most occasions.  Nevertheless, there were signs of dissent as to the line of action he proposed, though it were only for his own guidance.

“And how do you suppose Rayner and the Riflers generally will regard your calling on their black sheep?” asked Buxton, after a pause.

“I don’t know,” said Blake, more seriously, and with a tone of concern.  “I like Rayner, and have found most of those fellows thorough gentlemen and good friends.  This will test the question thoroughly.  I believe most of them, except of course Rayner, would do the same were they in my place.  At all events, I mean to see.”

“What are you going to do, Gregg?” asked “the mole,” wheeling suddenly on his brother troop-commander.

“I don’t know,” said Gregg, doubtfully.  “I think I’ll ask the colonel.”

“What do you suppose he means to do?”

“I don’t know again; but I’ll bet we all know as soon as he makes up his mind; and he is making up his mind now,—­or he’s made it up, for there goes Mr. Hayne, and here comes the orderly.  Something’s up already.”

Every head was turned to the door-way as the orderly’s step was heard in the outer hall, and every voice stilled to hear the message, it was so unusual for the commanding officer to send for one of his subordinates after the morning meeting.  The soldier tapped at the panel, and at the prompt “Come in” pushed it partly open and stood with one white-gloved hand resting on the knob, the other raised to his cap-visor in salute.