“Send this card to his room.”
“Yes?” Doubtfully.
“Is there any reason why you shouldn’t?”
“There was a military banquet last night,” interposed the quiet, little man. “Patriotism bubbled over until morning.”
“Ah, yes,” commented Culver––for it was he––“fought their battles over again! Some of them in the hospital to-day! Well, well, they suffered in a glorious cause, toasting the president, and the army, and the flag, and the girls they left behind them! I read the account of it in the papers this morning. Grand speech of the bishop; glorious response of ‘Old Rough and Ready’! You are right to protect sleeping heroes, but I’m afraid I must run the guard, as my business is urgent.”
A few moments later the lawyer, breathing heavily, followed a colored lad down a crimson-carpeted corridor, pausing before a door upon which his guide knocked vigorously and then vanished.
“Colonel Saint-Prosper?” said the lawyer, as he obeyed the voice within and entered the room, where a tall young man in civilian attire was engaged in packing a small trunk. “One moment, pray––let me 490 catch my breath. That lad accomplished the ascent two steps at a time, and, I fear, the spectacle stimulated me to unusual expedition. We’re apt to forget we are old and can’t keep up with boys and monkeys!”
During this somewhat playful introduction the attorney was studying the occupant of the room with keen, bright gaze; a glance which, without being offensive, was sufficiently penetrating and comprehensive to convey a definite impression of the other’s face and figure. The soldier returned his visitor’s look deliberately, but with no surprise.
“Won’t you sit down?” he said.
Culver availed himself of the invitation. “I am not disturbing you? I have long known of you, although this is our first meeting.”