Part 10 (1/2)

Elmsley, take the gla.s.s, and try what you can make of them.”

The lieutenant gazed through the gla.s.s a moment, and then p.r.o.nounced name after name, as the men severally came under the range of the lens.

”Yes, sir, as you say, there is Corporal Nixon steering--then, with, their backs to us, and pulling, are first, Collins, then Green, then Jackson, then Weston, then Ca.s.s, and then Philips. But what they have in the bottom of the boat, for I now can see that plain enough, is not fish, sir, but a human body, and a dog crouched at its side. Yes! it is indeed the Frenchman's dog--Loup Garou.”

”Well, I want to know!” exclaimed Ephraim Giles, who had ascended the bastion, and now stood amid the group of men, ”I take it, that if that's Loup Garou, his master can't be far off. I never knowed them to be separate.”

”Yes, sir, that is certainly a dead body,” pursued the lieutenant--”somebody killed at the farm, no doubt. Have you any orders for the direction of the party, when they land, sir?” he inquired, as he handed back the gla.s.s to the captain.

”Just desire the drum to beat to parade,” was the answer. ”It wants only a few minutes of guard-mounting, and by the time the men have fallen in, and the roll is called, the boat will be here. Where is Mr. Ronayne?”

”I have not seen him this morning, sir, but believe that he is in his own rooms. He, however, knows the hour, and doubtless will be here presently.”

”When the men have fallen in, come and report to me,” said the captain, as he descended from the bastion, and proceeded to his own quarters, to eat his untasted breakfast.

The lieutenant touched his cap in a.s.sent, and then, having despatched a man with orders to the temporary drum-major, crossed over to the apartments of the ensign, anxious not only to excuse himself for not being able to receive his friend to his own breakfast, at the hour he had named, but to prepare him for the reception of the body of Mr.

Heywood, which he doubted not, was that now on its way for interment at his own house.

On entering the mess-room, in which they had taken their punch, the previous evening, everything bore evidence of a late debauch. Ashes and tobacco were liberally strewed upon the table, while around the empty bowl, were, in some disorder, pipes and gla.s.ses--one of each emptied of all but the ashes and sediment--the other two only half-smoked, half-full, and standing amid a pool of wet, which had evidently been spilt by a not very steady hand. The windows were closed, so that the smoke clung to what little furniture there was in the room, and the whole scent of the place was an abominable compound of stale tobacco and strong whisky.

A loud snoring in the room on his right attracted his attention. He knew that it was Von Vottenberg's, and he entered to see what had kept him in bed until that late hour. The surgeon, only half-undressed, was fast asleep, not within, but on the outside of the bed-clothes. Somewhat disgusted at the sight, for Elmsley was comparatively abstemious, he shook him not very gently, when the doctor, opening his eyes with a start, half-rose upon his elbow. ”Ha!” he exclaimed, ”I know you mean to say that breakfast is waiting; I had forgotten all about it, old fellow.”

”I mean nothing of the kind,” was the reply, ”but I recommend you to lose no time in dressing and turning out. The men are already on parade, and if Captain Headley, finding that you are absent, tends over here to inquire the cause, I would not give much for your future chances of swallowing whisky-punch within the walls of Chicago.”

”Eh? what! what!” spluttered the surgeon, as he jumped up, drew on his boots, dipped his face in a basin of water, and hastily completed his toilet. In less than five minutes he was on parade.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Elmsley, after giving this warning, had pa.s.sed again through the mess-room, and knocked at Ronayne's door. But there was no answer.

”Hilloa, Ronayne,” he called loudly, as he turned the handle of the latch, ”are YOU in bed too?”

But no Ronayne was there. He looked at the bed--like the doctor's, it had been laid upon, but no one had been within the clothes.

What was the meaning of this? After a few moments of delay, he flew back to Von Vottenberg's room, but the latter was already gone. Retracing his steps, he met Ronayne's servant entering at the mess-room door.

”Where is your master?” he inquired. ”How is it that he is not in his room--has not been in bed?”

”Not been in bed?” repeated the lad, with surprise. ”Why, sir, he told me last night that he was very drowsy and should lie late; and, that he mightn't be disturbed, he desired me to sleep in one of the block-houses. I was only to wake him in time for guard-mounting, and as it wants but ten minutes to that, I am just come to call him.”

”Clean out the mess-room directly--open the windows, and pat every thing in order,” said the lieutenant, fearing that Captain Headley might, on hearing of the absence of the young officer, pay his quarters a visit in search of some clue to the cause. ”I see it all,” he mused, as he moved across the parade-ground. ”He would not, generous fellow, get me into a sc.r.a.pe, by making me privy to his design, and to avoid the difficulty of the gate, has got over the pickets somewhere--yet, if so, he must have had a rope, and a.s.sistance of some kind, for he never could have crossed them without. Yet, where can he be gone, and what could he have expected to result from his mad scheme? Had he waited until now, he would have known by the arrival of the fis.h.i.+ng-party with their sad charge, how utterly useless was all this risk.”

”Well, Mr. Elmsley,” said the captain, who now appeared at the front of his own door, fully dressed for parade, and preparing to issue forth in all the stateliness of command.

”The parade is formed, sir,” remarked the lieutenant, confusedly, ”but I cannot find the officer of the guard.”

”Sir!” exclaimed Captain Headley.

”I cannot find Mr. Ronayne, sir--I have myself been over to his quarters, and looked into his bed-room, but it is clear that he has not been in bed all night.”

”What is the meaning of all this? Send Doctor Von Vottenberg here immediately.”

And lucky was it for that gentleman that the officer who now desired his attendance on the commandant had roused him from that Lethean slumber in which he had been, only a few minutes before, so luxuriously indulging.