Judge Roscoe could ill sustain the expectation of their childish comment. But he felt that his dignity was involved in ignoring that aught was amiss. His composure emulated Ashley's resolute placidity and well-bred, conventional determination to admittedly hear and see naught that was not intentionally addressed by his host to his observation. Baynell gave no outward and obvious sign of notice, but the subcurrent of brooding thought that occupied his mind was token of his evident comprehension and a nettled annoyance. Perhaps they all felt the relief from the tension when Ashley, suddenly glancing toward the window, saw between the long red curtains the section of a clearing sky and the glitter of a star.
"The storm is over," he said. "I think, Judge, we might venture out now to view the damage. I trust there is not much timber down."
The three men trooped heavily out into the hall, and suddenly the challenge of the sentry rang forth, simultaneously with the sound of the approach of horses' hoofs and the jingle of military accoutrements. Colonel Ashley's groom had bethought himself to bring up his master's charger in case he should care, since the weather had cleared, to return to camp. This Ashley preferred, despite Judge Roscoe's cordial insistence that he could put him up for the night without the slightest inconvenience.
As Ashley took leave of the family and galloped down the avenue in the chill damp air, and over the spongy turf, now and then constrained to turn aside to avoid fallen boughs, he had not even a vague prevision how short an interval was to elapse before chance should bring him back. His expectation of meeting a charming young lady, with perhaps the sequel of an interesting flirtation, in which all his best qualities as squire of dames should be elicited for the admiration of the fair,—his preëminence in singing, in quoting poetry, in saying pretty things, in horsemanship, above all the killing glances of his arch dark eyes, to say naught of the relish he always experienced in his own excellent pose as a lover, one of his favorite rôles,—all had been nullified by Mrs. Gwynn's unresponsiveness. His vanity was touched, upon reflecting on the events of the evening. He did not feel entreated according to his merits by her attitude of a faded and elderly widow-woman, and his relegation to the puerilities of the little Old Maids, or little "ladies," or whatever they called themselves (certainly not the first), with Baynell playing the stick, and the old judge merely a galvanized Opinion. He resolved that he would stick to camp hereafter. He knew a game of "Draw" with no Old Maid in the pack, and he would solace his spare time with such diversion as it might afford, and look to the drill of his squadrons.
Nevertheless the moisture of the storm was scarcely sun-dried the next afternoon before he was again galloping up the long avenue of the grove and inquiring of old Janus, appropriately playing janitor, if Captain Baynell were within, as he had some special business with him.
As on other occasions there was no glimpse or sound of feminine presence in the halls or on the stairs as he followed the old servant up the softly padded ascent. He fancied the old negro was much disaffected; he had a plaintive, remonstrant submissiveness, and a sort of curious, shadowy, aged look that seemed a concomitant of a sullen reproach. Had they been beyond earshot of the household, Ashley would have bidden the old man out with his grievance, but naught was said, and presently the door of Captain Baynell's bedroom closed upon him.
"Did you know that Tompkins had sent up here and impressed Mrs. Gwynn's horse?"
Baynell had not risen from a seat at an escritoire, where he seemed to have been writing, and Ashley was half across the room and had flung himself into a chair before the fire ere his friend could lay down the pen.
"Yes, I knew it."
"Why—why—how did he know they had the animal in the cellar? He was up here the day before yesterday, and that old darkey told him that the horse had already been pressed into service."