The shrill tones of the infuriated girl were plainly audible all over
the flats whereon were huddled the little cabins of log and adobe
assigned as quarters to the few married men among the soldiery. These
were the halcyon days of the old army when each battery, troop, or
company was entitled to four laundresses and each laundress to one
ration. Old and young, there were at least fifty pairs of ears within
easy range of the battle that raged forthwith, the noise of which
reached even to the shaded precincts of the trader's store three
hundred yards away. It was impossible that such a flat-footed
statement as Norah's should not be borne to the back doors of "The
Row" and, repeated then from lip to lip, should soon be told to
certain of the officers. Sanders heard it as he came in from stable
duty, and Dr. Graham felt confident that it had been repeated under
the major's roof when at 6 P. M. the post commander desired his
professional services in behalf of Mrs. Plume, who had become
unaccountably, if not seriously, ill.
Graham had but just returned from a grave conference with Wren, and
his face had little look of the family physician as he reluctantly
obeyed the summons. As another of the auld licht school of Scotch
Presbyterians, he also had conceived deep-rooted prejudice to that
frivolous French aide-de-camp of the major's wife. The girl did dance
and flirt and ogle to perfection, and half a dozen strapping sergeants
were now at sword's points all on account of this objectionable Eliza.
Graham, of course, had heard with his ears and fathomed with his
understanding the first reports of Wren's now famous reply to his
commanding officer; and though Wren would admit no more to him than
he had to the major, Graham felt confident that the major's wife was
one of the mysterious persons seen by Wren, and declared by Norah, in
the dim starlight of the early morning, lurking along the post of No.
5. Graham had no doubt that Elise was the other. The man most
concerned in the case, the major himself, was perhaps the only one at
sunset who never seemed to suspect that Mrs. Plume could have been in
any way connected with the affair. He met the doctor with a world of
genuine anxiety in his eyes.
"My wife," said he, "is of a highly sensitive organization, and she
has been completely upset by this succession of scandalous affairs.
She and Blakely were great friends at St. Louis three years ago;
indeed, many people were kind enough to couple their names before our
marriage. I wish you could--quiet her," and the sounds from aloft,
where madame was nervously pacing her room, gave point to the
suggestion. Graham climbed the narrow stairs and tapped at the north
door on the landing. It was opened by Elise, whose big, black eyes
were dilated with excitement, while Mrs. Plume, her blonde hair
tumbling down her back, her peignoir decidedly rumpled and her
general appearance disheveled, was standing in mid-floor, wringing her
jeweled hands. "She looks like sixty," was the doctor's inward remark,
"and is probably not twenty-six."