Captain Baynell lifted his eyes from his cards, and a glance of warning, of upbraiding, flashed into the jovial dark eyes of Colonel Ashley. Judge Roscoe perceived it with surprise and a sort of uncomfortable monition that he and his guest, the son of his cherished friend, were in reality in opposition in a most important crisis of the life of each—in effect, national enemies. He had not thus regarded their standpoint, and the idea that this was Baynell's conviction wounded him. He hardly thought the warning glance in his own house either necessary or in good form, and he was not ill pleased to subtly perceive that Ashley secretly resented it.
"A troop train, I should judge, by the sound," Ashley said hardily, his head still poised in a listening pose. "Evidently heavily laden; might be horses, though," he continued speculatively. He would not submit to be checked or disciplined into prudential considerations by Baynell, especially as Judge Roscoe must have noted the warning sign, which itself would tend to convert a simple casual remark into a significant disclosure. He said to himself that he knew the proper limitations of conversation, and was the last man in the world to let slip a hint that might by any means inform or even prompt the enemy. Moreover, Judge Roscoe was not deaf, and could distinguish the deep rumble of cars laden with troops from the usual sound of the running-gear of a train of ordinary freight and passengers. He went on casually and with an expansive effect of frankness: "Horses, most probably; there is a cavalry regiment in town that has been at the front as dismounted troops, and I think an order is out for horses for their use as cavalry again; they have been pressing horses all over the county yesterday and the day before. Winstead's troopers, you know," he added, addressing Baynell. "I saw him to-day. He says his men all seem pigeon-toed, or web-footed, or something. They were of no use afoot, although they have done very well in the saddle."
"An'—an' did they wear boots on birds' feet an' web-toes?" asked the amazed Geraldine, innocently.
"Oh—oh, Ger'ldine!" screamed the superior Adelaide. "He means walkin' this-a-way," and her hands went across the table in a "toeing-in" gait, illustrative of the defect known as "pigeon toes."
"Aw—aw—I know now!" said the instructed "lady," wofully out of countenance. Then she turned to draw from her neighbor's hand with much doubt and circumspection, for the matched pile in the centre was now large and the remaining cards had become few.
At that moment Mrs. Gwynn glanced up from the paper; she had been reading an account of a recent spirited skirmish at the front.
"What is the difference between shrapnel and grape-shot?" she asked of the company at large.
Baynell, the artillery expert, rejoiced to enlighten her. He turned in his chair and promptly took the word from the others. Few experts can answer any simple question categorically. Not only did he explain the missiles in question, but also how they had happened to be what they were, and the earlier stages of their development. He gave his views on their relative value and the possibility of their future utility,—all while Ashley, who now sat next him, as they had chanced to shift their chairs when Mrs. Gwynn had entered, waited with quiet and polite patience for him to draw. Baynell did this at haphazard at last, and whether it was accident or Fate that the significant card was practically thrust into his heedless hand by the mischievous Ashley, his countenance fell at beholding the prognosis of single blessedness, so palpably, so preposterously, that the jovial Ashley could not restrain his bantering laughter. Baynell instantly presented the cards to him to draw in turn, but either favored by luck or having acquired some surreptitious unfair knowledge of the outer aspect of the card, Ashley avoided the ill-omened pasteboard, and Baynell was at last left with the single card in his hand, while his triumphant friend made the room riotous with laughter, and the three "ladies" bent compassionate, tender eyes upon him, as if they anticipated the conventional gush of tears. They had grown very fond of him, and deeply felt the disaster that had befallen him.
"Oh, Captain Baynell, never mind! never mind!" cried the inspirational Adelaide. "We'll marry you! We'll marry you! You needn't be so anxious!"
Once more Ashley's ringing merriment amazed the sympathetic "ladies."