"Oh—ah—step into the parlor, Mr. Leonard," said he, airily, "I presume you're here on business." He was preparing to exhibit amaze—virtuous and soldierly indignation—at the idea of having, all unheard and unrepresented, been ordered into arrest on the prejudiced statement of a swarm of hostile officers and sorely badgered and bullied members of his troop. Well knowing himself to be tottering on the ragged edge of final discovery, his duplicity exposed, his deceit established, he nevertheless braced himself for the supreme effort to bluff to the very last. Thanks to the storm-shed without, the hall was dark, and for a moment he could only vaguely see the huge bulk of the infantryman standing erect before him, the very attitude indicative of stern official purpose.
And then in sudden revulsion of feeling,—in a wild whirl of reviving hope, courage, exultation,—he noticed that the adjutant was without his sword, and listened, spell-bound, well-nigh incredulous and without reply, to the brief official words which Mr. Leonard delivered, then saluting, turned on his heel and left the house.
"It is my duty to announce, sir, that Colonel Stone has had a stroke of apoplexy or vertigo and is seriously ill. As senior captain, you are in command of the post."
CHAPTER XVI.
That beautiful wintry Tuesday morning was as placid and serene as nature could make it, but Fort Scott was in a ferment. Whether stricken by apoplexy, which was the first, or vertigo, which was the later, theory, Colonel Peleg Stone had been found lying bleeding and unconscious at the foot of the stairs, and almost at his parlor door, just after sick-call. He had arisen early, said his tearful and terrified wife, saying that matters of importance demanded his presence at the office before guard-mounting. He had been wakeful and restless during the night. He had called for hot water soon after reveille, and gone into his dressing-room to shave. This was all she knew until aroused an hour later by her frightened maid, with the tidings that the colonel was lying speechless in the hall. Both doctors and Mr. Leonard were summoned. Violence was hinted at, but the orderly pacing the front piazza declared that no one had entered the front door since he came over and rang the bell to report himself for duty just as soon as he had finished breakfast. "For them was the colonel's orders when he dismissed me last night." Just about sick-call he heard the sound of a heavy fall inside, and presently "Jane come a-runnin'," and told him to rush for the doctors. Alonzo, the colonel's colored body-servant who had followed his fortunes a dozen years, was in the kitchen below stairs, and was sure no one had come in from the rear. He, too, had heard the fall and ran up with Jane, finding his master completely dressed, lying close to the parlor door, with blood streaming from his nose and mouth. There were heavy contusions on the forehead and face, caused probably by his having plunged blindly forward down the stairs. Something in the stertorous breathing suggested apoplexy, but the doctors soon decided against that. It might have been vertigo, or he might simply have tripped at the top and come diving head-foremost all the way down, but his clothing was not in such disorder as that would cause, and neither the orderly, nor Jane, nor Alonzo had heard more than one single crash or thud. Had they examined the parlor and sitting-room to see if any one could have been there hidden? was asked. No, there wasn't time. The house was one of the big double sets of quarters, with hall-way and staircase in the middle, as frequently planned in those days for the commanding officer of the large frontier garrisons. Four large rooms were on the ground floor for use as parlor, sitting-, and reception- and dining-room, all abundantly furnished, as Mrs. Stone was well-to-do, and there were hiding-places enough if some one had stolen in, like a thief in the night. The broad contusion on the forehead might have been caused by some blunt instrument, to be sure, said the senior surgeon, but he thought it improbable. Only one thing was certain,—Pegleg was knocked out. It might be several days, possibly a week, before he could resume duty. Captain Devers came over five minutes after the adjutant left him, and was profuse in sympathy, sorrow, and proffers of aid. The despatch sent to Department head-quarters that afternoon was a model of style, but it did not reach the office until late in the afternoon, so late that the general had gone home with his chief of staff, and not until five o'clock was it placed in the hands of the latter, who took it at once to his commander.
"Whew!" said the chief. "It's bad enough to have Pegleg down, but think of having Devers up, even for a week."
"I don't see what we can do, sir," was the reply. "The lieutenant-colonel of the Fortieth is on leave awaiting retirement, the major on General Sheridan's staff. Major Warren, of the Eleventh, is abroad, and Devers is the ranking captain."
"Well, let it stand," said the general, after a while. "Leonard will look after affairs in the Fortieth, and you look after Devers. If he gets to cutting up any didoes, send him up to the reservation to investigate the trouble up there; it's something after his own heart, I reckon,—or send him anywhere, and let the command devolve on the next captain until Stone's on deck again. Devers says he'll be up in a week."
"That's just what makes me fear he won't be well in a month, and if he isn't able to resume duty, Devers will say he only meant sitting up in bed, probably."