Whereat there were symptoms of panic among the dingy white-shirted,
dingy white-turbaned watchers along the edge, and a man in snowy white
fatigue coat, pacing restlessly up and down in rear, this time, of the
major's quarters, whirled suddenly about and strode out on the
mesa, gazing northward in the direction of the sound. It was Plume
himself, and Plume had had a sleepless night.
At tattoo, by his own act and direction, the major had still further
strained the situation. The discovery of Blakely's watch, buried
loosely in the sands barely ten feet from where the sentry fell, had
seemed to him a matter of such significance that, as Graham maintained
an expression of professional gravity and hazarded no explanation, the
major sent for the three captains still on duty, Cutler, Sanders, and
Westervelt, and sought their views. One after another each picked up
and closely examined the watch, within and without, as though
expectant of finding somewhere concealed about its mechanism full
explanation of its mysterious goings and comings. Then in turn, with
like gravity, each declared he had no theory to offer, unless, said
Sanders, Mr. Blakely was utterly mistaken in supposing he had been
robbed at the pool. Mr. Blakely had the watch somewhere about him when
he dismounted, and then joggled it into the sands, where it soon was
trampled under foot. Sanders admitted that Blakely was a man not often
mistaken, and that the loss reported to the post trader of the flat
notebook was probably correct. But no one could be got to see, much
less to say, that Wren was in the slightest degree connected with the
temporary disappearance of the watch. Yet by this time Plume had some
such theory of his own.
Sometime during the previous night, along toward morning, he had
sleepily asked his wife, who was softly moving about the room, to
give him a little water. The "monkey" stood usually on the window
sill, its cool and dewy surface close to his hand; but he remembered
later that she did not then approach the window--did not immediately
bring him the glass. He had retired very late, yet was hardly
surprised to find her wide awake and more than usually nervous. She
explained by saying Elise had been quite ill, was still suffering, and
might need her services again. She could not think, she said, of
sending for Dr. Graham after all he had had to vex him. It must have
been quite a long while after, so soundly had Plume slept, when she
bent over him and said something was amiss and Mr. Doty was at the
front door waiting for him to come down. He felt oddly numb and heavy
and stupid as he hastily dressed, but Doty's tidings, that Mullins had
been stabbed on post, pulled him together, as it were, and, merely
running back to his room for his canvas shoes, he was speedily at the
scene. Mrs. Plume, when briefly told what had happened, had covered
her face with her hands and buried face and all in the pillow,
shuddering. At breakfast-time Plume himself had taken her tea and
toast, both mistress and maid being still on the invalid list, and,
bending affectionately over her, he had suggested her taking this very
light refreshment and then a nap. Graham, he said, should come and
prescribe for Elise. But madame was feverishly anxious. "What will be
the outcome? What will happen to--Captain Wren?" she asked.