“Great guns!  I never thought of it!  If I’d known she was to be there I’d have gone myself last night.  How did she behave to Miss Renwick?”

“Why, sweet and smiling, and chipper as you please.  If anything, I think Miss Renwick was cold and distant to her.  I couldn’t make it out at all.”

“And did Jerrold dance with her?”

“Once, I think, and they had a talk out on the piazza,—­just a minute.  I happened to be at the door, and couldn’t help seeing it; and what got me was this:  Mr. Hall came out with Miss Renwick on his arm; they were chatting and laughing as they passed me, but the moment she caught sight of Jerrold and Miss Beaubien she stopped, and said, ’I think I won’t stay out here; it’s too chilly,’ or something like it, and went right in; and then Jerrold dropped Miss Beaubien and went after her.  He just handed the young lady over to me, saying he was engaged for next dance, and skipped.”

“How did she like that?  Wasn’t she furious?”

“No.  That’s another thing that got me.  She smiled after him, all sweetness, and—­well, she did say, ’I count upon you,—­you’ll be there,’ and he nodded.  Oh, she was bright as a button after that.”

“What did she mean?—­be ‘where,’ do you suppose?  Sloat, this all means more to me, and to us all, than I can explain.”

“I don’t know.  I can’t imagine.”

“Was it to see her again that night?”

“I don’t know at all.  If it was, he fooled her, for he never went near her again.  Rollins put her in the carriage.”

“Whose?  Did she come out with the Suttons?”

“Why, certainly.  I thought you knew that.”

“And neither old Madame Beaubien nor Mrs. Sutton with them?  What was the old squaw thinking of?”

By this time they had neared the guard-house, where several of the men were seated awaiting the call for the next relief.  All arose at the shout of the sentry on Number One, turning out the guard for the officer of the day.  Chester made hurried and impatient acknowledgment of the salute, and called to the sergeant to send him the sentry who was at the bridge at one o’clock.  It turned out to be a young soldier who had enlisted at the post only six months before and was already known as one of the most intelligent and promising candidates for a corporalship in the garrison.

“Were you on duty at the bridge at one o’clock, Carey?” asked the captain.

“I was, sir.  My relief went on at 11.45 and came off at 1.45.”

“What persons passed your post during that time?”

“There was a squad or two of men coming back from town on pass.  I halted them, sir, and Corporal Murray came down and passed them in.”

“I don’t mean coming from town.  Who went the other way?”

“Only one carriage, sir,—­Mr. Sutton’s.”

“Could you see who were in it?”

“Certainly, sir:  it was right under the lamp-post this end of the bridge that I stood when I challenged.  Lieutenant Rollins answered for them and passed them out.  He was sitting beside Mr. Sutton as they drove up, then jumped out and gave me the countersign and bade them good-night right there.”