Full uniform had not been worn at the post for any duty since the command left for the front; guard-mounting was in "undress," as only half a dozen men were put on duty each day, and the military reader can readily understand the sensation in the group as the white plumes of the young adjutant were seen. There is only one duty which, in the absence of courts-martial and dress-parades or the like, will account for an adjutant's appearing in full uniform at such an hour, and he was coming straight toward them.
Conversation ceased at once in the group at the gate. Ray and Miss Sanford, standing at the door-way, were still absorbed in their chat, and saw and heard nothing of what was coming. Mrs. Stannard turned pale and trembled so that all could see it. Blake looked, as he afterwards said, "six ways for Sunday;" then, as the officer neared him, with attempted jocularity sang out,—
"'The king has come to marshal us in all his armor drest,
And he has donned his snow-white plume to put us in arrest.'
Who's your victim, Warner?" and then stopped short as Warner brushed by, saying, in savage whisper,—
"Shut up! man, and get Ray away from this crowd quick. I want him."
Blake simply stared. Mrs. Stannard turned quickly and almost ran into the house. Mrs. Whaling lifted her eyes heavenward, as though imploring Divine mercy on the doomed one; Mrs. Turner flushed, and looked wonderingly from one to the other; Mrs. Wilkins dropped her parasol and picked it up pretty much as though it were a shillelah and she meant to use it as such, and then the group began to break up. Ray, glancing over his shoulder to inquire the cause of the sudden cessation of talk, caught sight of the snowy plume dancing on up the walk, of Blake standing in petrified and indignant silence, and then of Mrs. Stannard's face,—her eyes filling with tears. He recalled instantly her recent questions and half-uttered warnings, and something told him the blow had come. He gave one quick look at Miss Sanford; their eyes met, and hers, too, were full of trouble and something she could not express.
"Excuse me, but I want to inquire what this means," he said, and, bowing quietly, he turned to the gate where Blake still stood looking after Warner, who had halted farther up the row.
"It's you, Billy boy; and damn me if I don't believe the world is mad!"
Ray stalked up the line fast as his halting gait would admit. Wonderment, indignation, bitterness, were in his heart, but he choked it all down, and his eyes were fixed full upon the staff-officer, who, seeing him alone, came rapidly back to meet him. Something of the old reckless, dauntless manner reasserted itself as they reached speaking distance. The adjutant was toying nervously with his sword-knot. Despite all Gleason's insinuations, despite official papers that had been going to and fro, he felt it impossible to believe the allegations against Mr. Ray, and his unbelief was never so pronounced as at this moment when they came together. He had never seen it done before, but instinctively—by an impulse he could not restrain—he raised his hand in salute as he spoke the brief official words,—
"Mr. Ray, you are hereby placed in close arrest, by order of Colonel Whaling."