It was perhaps an hour after adjournment when the judge-advocate of the court, accompanied by one of its members, started out to take a drive. Passing the headquarters building where they had been in session during the morning, they were surprised to see Lieutenant Riggs standing alone at the doorway and gazing anxiously down the street.
"Why, I thought his wife was so sick, and supposed that he would be on his way to barracks by this time," said the member.
"And I, too; I don't understand it," said the junior, who was driving. "At least," he added, hesitatingly, "he may be waiting for the ambulance. It's a six-mile drive, and no hackman will go there for less than a small fortune."
There was silence for a moment as they trotted briskly along. Both the judge-advocate and the member caught each other in the act of glancing back towards the dim and lonely figure of Mr. Riggs, and in another minute the younger officer pulled up his team.
"Major, you want to go back and see what's the matter?"
"Yes, and so do you. Hold up a minute; there's Coles now. He'll know about the ambulance."
Reining in towards the sidewalk, the sauntering quartermaster was hailed, and that somewhat bulky official stepped up to the side of their stylish turn-out.
"Was the ambulance to take Riggs back to the post? He seems to be waiting for something very anxiously," said the judge-advocate.
The quartermaster started. "Why, yes; I thought it had gone long ago, and had stopped below here where I met it. Captain and Mrs. Breen and one or two others were doing a little shopping, I reckon."
"Meantime poor Riggs is waiting to get back to his sick wife, and has been waiting for an hour," said the legal adviser of the court, with an impatient crack of the whip that startled his spirited grays as they were whirled about and sent spinning up the street, leaving the dazed quartermaster staring after them. At headquarters the team again abruptly pulled up, and its driver called out, in cheery tones,