Part 17 (1/2)

”Holy powers!” said Father Tierney, ”did ye not know that I live here by myself? Father Lavalle is at the other end of town, and Father O'Hara lives by the Noviciate. Sure, and any one could have told you--”

”Father Lavalle and Father O'Hara,” said the aide, ”are nothing to the question. You have a guest with you--”

Father Tierney looked enlightened. ”Oh! Av coorse! There's always business on hand between soldiers. Was it Lieutenant McNeill you'll be looking after?”

Marchmont nodded. ”There are some instructions that General Banks neglected to give him. It is late, but the general wishes to get it all straight before he sleeps. I am sorry to disturb Lieutenant McNeill, for he must be fatigued. But orders are orders, you know--”

”Av coorse, av coorse!” agreed Father Tierney. ”'A man having authority,' 'I say unto this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh--'”

”So, father, if you'll be good enough to explain to Lieutenant McNeill--or if you'll tell me which is his room--”

The light of the candle showed a faint trouble in Father Tierney's face.

”Sure, it's too bad! Do you think, my son, the matter is of importance?

'T would be after being just a little left-over of directions?”

”Perhaps,” said Marchmont. ”But orders are orders, father, and I must awaken Lieutenant McNeill. Indeed, it's hard to think that he's asleep--”

”He isn't aslape.”

”Then will you be so good as to tell him--”

”Indeed, and I wish I could do that same thing, my son, but it isn't in nature--”

General Banks's aide made a gesture of impatience. ”I can't dawdle here any longer! Either you or I, father.” He pushed into the hall. ”Where is his room?”

”Holy Virgin!” exclaimed Father Tierney. ”It's vexed he'll be when he learns that the general wasn't done with him! There's the room, captain darlint, but--”

Marchmont's eyes followed the pointing of the candlestick. ”There!” he exclaimed. The door was immediately upon the left, not five feet from the portal he had lately belaboured. ”Then 't was against his window that I flung the gravel!”

With an oath he crossed the hall and struck his hand against the panel indicated. No answer. He knocked again with peremptoriness, then tried the door. It was unlocked, and opened quietly to his touch. All beyond was silent and dark. ”Father Tierney, I'll thank you for that candle!”

The priest gave it, and the aide held it up, displaying a chill and vacant chamber, furnished with monastic spareness. There was a narrow couch that had been slept in. Marchmont crossed the bare floor, bent, and felt the bedclothing. ”Quite cold. You've been gone some time, my friend. H--m! things look rather black for you!”

Father Tierney spoke from the middle of the room. ”It's sorry the lieutenant will be! Sure, and he thought he had the general's last word!

'Slape until you wake, my son,' says I. 'Judy will give us breakfast at eight.' 'No, no, father,' says he. 'General Kelly is wearying for this letter from General Banks. If I get it through prompt it will be remembered for me,' he says. ”T will be a point toward promotion,' he says. 'My horse has had a couple of hours' rest, and he's a Trojan beside,' he says. 'I'll sleep an hour myself, and then I'll be taking the road back to Romney. Ashby's over on the other side,' he says, 'and the sooner I get Ashby off my mind, the better pleased I'll be,' he says. And thereupon he slept for an hour--”

Marchmont still regarded the bed. ”I'll be d.a.m.ned if I know, my friend, whether you're blue or grey! How long has he been gone?”

Father Tierney pondered the question. ”By the seven holy candles, my son, I was that deep asleep when you knocked that I don't rightly know the time of night! Maybe he has been gone an hour, maybe more--”

”And how did he know the countersign?”

”Faith, and I understood that the general himself gave him the word--”

”H--m!” said Marchmont, and tugged at his moustache. He stood in silence for a moment, then turned sharply. ”Blue or grey, which? I'll be d.a.m.ned if I don't find out! Your horse may be a Trojan, my friend, but by this time he's a tired Trojan! Roberts!”

”Yes, sir.”

”You two go at once to headquarters' stables. Saddle my horse--not the black I rode yesterday--the fresh one, Caliph. Get your own horses.

Double-quick now! Ten minutes is all I give you.”