“Mervyn, as officer of the day, is going to report me for suppressing a breach of discipline, as officer of the guard.”
Only one of the men, the quarter-master, an old campaigner, was smoking; this habit he had acquired from the Indians, for pipes were temporarily out of fashion, save the cutty of the lower classes. He was of a ruder type than the others,—a burly, red-faced, jovial blade, inclined to be gray, and much disposed to lament what he called the shrinking of his waistcoat, as he grew portly on fine fare. He took the long pipe-stem from his lips, lowered the curiously carved bowl, and looked inquisitively at the young man’s face.
“Gad-zooks!” incredulously exclaimed the blond young ensign of the name of Innis.
The fort-adjutant was an older man, and had seen much service. He was grave, concerned. He sought a polite palliative.
“The first time since you have been in the service, I take it.”
Raymond noticed that none of them was swift to speech. Mervyn’s disapproval of him carried weight with them all. The thought sent him wild,—Mervyn, always so dispassionate, so calm, so self-contained, with good, slow judgment and an impeccant record! In his own defence, for his own repute, they must know the truth. He leaned forward, eagerly.
“Now I put the case to you,—not that I expect you to express any opinion as between us—” he added, hastily, marking a general expression of embarrassed negation. “I was officer of the guard, and about eleven of the clock, the night being very dark and a party of Indians having been lying down among the stakes of the abattis after eating a deer they had killed, I took the corporal and two men and visited the sentry posted on that side of the fort. Then I went out to where we had seen the bucks, but they had gone. This required some little time. When I got back to the guard-house I found the men in great glee. They were laughing and chuckling. They had a secret that mightily amused them. And, the night being long and the time dull, to pass it a bit I asked them—like a fool—what the fun was. They didn’t wish to tell, yet as I have always been fair to them, and considered their comfort and favored them as far as I could, they didn’t wish to refuse. So out it came. That little Scotch scamp, Robin Dorn, had leave to go down to the Scotch trader’s, and it seems the two Sawneys didn’t drink water. He came back while I was gone, very handsomely fuddled, I suppose, with two new drum-sticks for which he had been sent. The sentry at the gate passed him, and the guard-house door was open. In he flew like a whirlwind, with his new drum-sticks, and beat a rally on as many heads as he could before they could catch him and pitch him out into the snow. When I came in a moment later their heads were all roaring. It was a rough soldier’s joke of a fine relish to them. They were laughing, and grinning, and plotting to get even with Robin Dorn.”
There was a languid smile around the circle.
“Now, if this had happened in my presence, or if I had gained cognizance of it in any way except as a jest told at my request, for my amusement, or if it had been material to any interest of the garrison, I should have mentioned it in my report.”
“Is this what Mervyn calls your failure of duty?” demanded Bolt, the fort-adjutant.