Part 12 (2/2)
Burroughs sat beside her at the moment, but had been away, he explained, to see old Fritz again. A new attendant, a shy, awkward young fellow from Devers's troop, was hovering about the bedside, and Davies glanced at him inquiringly. ”What became of Paine?” he asked, and the steward shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
”Captain Devers took him away,” was the answer. The doctor arose and stood by Davies a minute.
”I don't know what to make of that captain of yours,” he said. ”Either he or I will keep out of this hospital in future. He came here and 'raised Cain' with my steward to-night, all on account of Brannan; then went over to the troop barracks foaming like a mad bull. I fancy he means to make it rather lively for you.”
”Never mind me, doctor, so long as this poor boy's coming out all right.
How is he?”
”Doing nicely now, but--I wish I'd understood the case before. I'm bound to say Captain Devers misled me entirely. _She's_ the doctor he needed,”
said he, with a jerk of his head towards the grave, beautiful girl bending over the soldier's pillow, one hand still slowly, tenderly stroking back the dark hair about his temples.
”Will you say good-night to her for me and escort her home? Mrs. Davies is not well and I must return to her,” said Davies, ”that is,--unless I am needed here.”
”No, go by all means. Only I may need you at the colonel's office in the morning when this thing has to be fought out. Dodge your captain, meantime, if you can.”
”I know of no reason why I should dodge him or anybody,” said Davies, with rising color. ”I have done no wrong.”
But on the steps without, as he hurried away, the lieutenant met a man who differed with him as to that--who differed with most people as to everything, and that he had been working up the case in his own mind against his subaltern there was no room for doubt.
”By what right, sir, do you a.s.sume to over-ride my authority and undo my orders? Time and again last summer I had occasion to caution you against interference in the handling of the men and the management of the troop, and now no sooner do you rejoin than here you are taking advantage of my being probably abed and asleep to countermand my positive instructions and overthrow my efforts at discipline.”
Without one word of reply Mr. Davies a.s.sumed the position of attention and stood like a soldier before his furious commander. ”I say again, sir,” began Devers, ”that you have deliberately sought to deride my authority and have connived at the disobedience of my orders. You knew perfectly well what orders I had given in the case of Brannan, and you dared to set them aside.”
Still not a word in reply.
”This silence is contemptuous. Why don't you speak, sir?”
”I simply deny each and every allegation, Captain Devers.”
”Denial is ridiculous, Mr. Davies! Haven't I the evidence of my own senses,--of the steward and the attendant? Don't I know? By G.o.d, sir----”
”One moment. Oblige me, captain. I wish to behave with all deference and respect, but when you use blasphemy----”
”Oh, blasphemy be d.a.m.ned! Don't attempt to teach me! I've had too much of your puritanical, psalm-singing business. I condoned your wretched misconduct of last September in the hope that you might do better, but now the time has come for you to be given the lesson you deserve. Things have reached a pretty pa.s.s when an officer who leads his men into ambush and then deserts them in their extremity----”
”Captain Devers!”
”No dramatics now. You're not in the pulpit----” The steward came forth at the moment, and with instant modulation of tone Devers went on. ”You may not realize what you have done, but you have done it all the same, despite every effort of mine to teach you the proper course----What is it, steward?” he broke off, as though suddenly aware of that official's presence.
”The doctor's compliments, sir, and the new man the captain has sent over to relieve Paine seems to lack intelligence; he won't do at all as an attendant.”
”Tell the doctor I sent the best I had, and that he begged to be relieved because he couldn't serve so many masters. When the post surgeon hears of this night's work he will doubtless have his say as to the manner in which his subordinates have trifled with their duties. I will make no change.--You appear to be waiting, Mr. Davies. That's all, sir, for to-night. You may go.”
With a face almost as white as the snowy expanse of the parade, the lieutenant still stood there, quivering with wrath and wrong. He looked as though a torrent of reply were trembling on his lips, yet by supreme effort he curbed the impulse. His chest heaved once or twice. His lips were twitching. His hands were clenched and convulsive, but at last, with one long look into his captain's eyes while the latter was going on to say something about the necessity of his junior's accepting his admonition in proper spirit, Davies turned abruptly and sprang down the steps. Two soldiers stood there in the dusk, where they must have heard every word that was said. One was the new company clerk, Howard, the other Paine. Neither lifted a hand in salute to the officer. Both turned their backs and feigned to be deeply interested in conversation of their own.
It was Mr. Hastings's duty that week to supervise reveille roll-call and attend morning stables. He was surprised, therefore, as he went bounding over the parade, to see his junior sub on the porch wrapped in a heavy overcoat. Presently, after reporting to the post adjutant, as was the local custom, the various officers came scattering back to their own firesides, the infantry subs to turn in for another snooze, the cavalry to swallow a cup of coffee before going down to stables. Sanders hailed the lonely figure with characteristic levity.
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