his better half before starting for the train, and suggested that it was very probable that Mrs. Rayner had seen the folly of her ways by that time,—­the captain certainly had been behaving as though he regretted the estrangement,—­and if encouraged by a “let’s-drop-the-whole-thing” sort of manner she would be glad to reciprocate.  He felt far less anxiety herein than he did in leaving the post to the command of Captain Buxton.  So scrupulously had he been courteous to that intractable veteran that Buxton had no doubt in his own mind that the colonel looked upon him as the model officer of the regiment.  It was singularly unfortunate that he should have to be left in command, but his one or two seniors among the captains were away on long leave, and there was no help for it.  The colonel, seriously disquieted, had a few words of earnest talk with him before leaving the post, cautioning him so particularly not to interfere with any of the established details and customs that Buxton got very much annoyed, and showed it.

“If your evidence were not imperatively necessary before this court, I declare I believe I’d leave you behind,” said the colonel to his adjutant.  “There is no telling what mischief Captain Buxton won’t do if left to himself.”

It must have been near midnight, and the hop was going along beautifully, and Captain Rayner, who was officer of the day, was just escorting his wife in to supper, and Nellie, although looking a trifle tired and pale, was chatting brightly with a knot of young officers when a corporal of the guard came to the door:  “The commanding officer’s compliments, and he desires to see the officer of the day at once.”

There was a general laugh.  “Isn’t that Buxton all over?  The colonel would never think of sending for an officer in the dead of night, except for a fire or alarm; but old Bux. begins putting on frills the moment he gets a chance.  Thank God, I’m not on guard to-night!” said Mr. Royce.

“What can he want with you?” asked Mrs. Rayner, pettishly.  “The idea of one captain ordering another around like this!”

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” said Rayner, as he picked up his sword and disappeared.

But ten minutes—­fifteen—­passed, and he came not.  Mrs. Rayner grew worried, and Mr. Blake led her out on the rude piazza to see what they could see, and several others strolled out at the same time.  The music had ceased, and the night air was not too cold.  Not a soul was in sight out on the starlit parade.  Not an unusual sound was heard.  There was nothing to indicate the faintest trouble; and yet Captain Buxton, the commanding officer, had been called out by his “striker” or soldier-servant before eleven o’clock, had not returned at all, and in little over half an hour had sent for the officer of the day.  What did it mean?  Questioning and talking thus among themselves, somebody said, “Hark!” and held up a warning hand.

Faint, far, muffled, there sounded on the night air a shot, then a woman’s scream; then all was still.