Without knowing the purport of the order, the second sergeant, accustomed to giving prompt obedience to all commands, passed around the right of the line, down to the center, stepped two paces to the front, halted and saluted his superior officer.
The first sergeant acknowledged the salute, then, with deliberate emphasis, in a voice that could be heard the length of the hall, he said:
“Sergeant McCormack, you will take a detail, consisting of one corporal and two privates, and conduct to the street one, Hugo Donatello, whose presence in this room is offensive to Company E and its guests.”
For a moment Hal stood motionless and speechless. He had seen and known nothing of the brief interview between the first sergeant and Donatello. When he realized the meaning and force of the command that had been given to him, he was amazed and indignant. He brought his hand up sharply in a second salute.
“Hugo Donatello,” he replied, “is my guest here this evening.”
The first sergeant did not move, nor did the expression on his face change by so much as the lifting of an eyebrow. Again, more deliberately, more emphatically than before, in a voice that could be heard to the remotest corner of the drill-hall, he gave the command:
“Sergeant McCormack, you will take a detail, consisting of one corporal and two privates, and conduct to the street one, Hugo Donatello, whose presence in this room is an offense to Company E and its guests.”
For Halpert McCormack it was the most tense moment that his life had thus far known. That the man whom he had brought as his guest should be thus publicly humiliated; that he, himself, should be deliberately chosen as the instrument by which such humiliation was to be accomplished; it was monstrous and unbelievable. Against such an outrage his whole nature cried out in revolt. For one moment, in a larger sense than he dreamed of at the time, he stood at the parting of the ways. Then the soldier within him prevailed. He made his decision. He saluted his superior officer, faced about, chose a corporal and two privates, ordered them to the front, and marched with them to the place where Donatello was still sitting, a quizzical smile on his lips, a dangerous light in his eyes.
In the audience there was the stillness of consternation. Women crouched back into their seats and put their hands to their faces. A few men rose to their feet and stared expectantly. No one could foresee just what would happen.
Sergeant McCormack halted his squad in front of the offending visitor.