She bent her head again. He turned on his heel, opened the door behind him and signed to her to enter the room. Then he closed the door upon her. By common consent we moved away and went outside. “Poor beggar!” Haldane muttered. “I wouldn’t be in his shoes at this moment for all his pay and appointments. Hanged if I would!” Then, “Curse the war, I say!”
“I say the same!” Paton replied, and twitching the other’s sleeve he drew him aside. They encountered and turned back some men who were moving towards us—I have no doubt to learn what was on foot.
I took my seat on the most remote bench on the left of the door, and apart from the crowd; and I waited. How long? I cannot say. I had no hope that the girl would succeed; I was in no suspense on that account. All my anxiety centered in another matter. When she came out she would have heard all from Rawdon. She would have learned the truth and my part in the story. Between them the facts must come out; they could not be hid. And then she would stand alone, quite alone in this strange camp, with four o’clock before her. How would she survive it? What would become of her? The sweat stood on my brow. I waited—waited, knowing that that must be the end of it.
I felt that I should be aware of her knowledge as soon as I saw her. She would feel by instinct where I had placed myself, and she would turn the other way. Or perhaps she would look at me once, and the horror in her eyes would wither me. So far there had been a strange mingling of sweet and bitter in the confidence which she had placed in me, in the way in which she had turned to me, trusted me, leant on me. But when she came out, knowing all, there would be an end of that.
Unheeding, I watched the traffic of the camp pass before me. I saw Carroll go by, and the officer who had presided at the court martial. Then Tom, the negro, passed, chattering in the company of two other blacks, one of them a teamster. Apparently he had plucked up courage and had found companions. They went towards the tavern. Next the Provost-Marshal appeared; he came towards us, but was waylaid by Haldane and Paton who entered into a heated argument with him—not far from me but just out of earshot. He seemed hard to persuade about something; he glanced my way, argued, hesitated. Finally he yielded and turned away, flinging a sharp sentence over his shoulder. Paton replied, there was a distant rejoinder. The Marshal disappeared down the road, shrugging his shoulders, as if he disclaimed—something.
A man near me laughed. Another said that Paton would get on.
The latter made an angry answer, looking at me. I did not understand. I was waiting. Would she never come? Was it possible that he was listening to her? That he would—
Here was the Provost-Marshal returning anew. Apparently he had thought better of it, for his face was hard with purpose. But again Haldane and Paton met him. They assailed him, argued with him, almost buffeted him; finally they took him by the arms, turned him about, and marched him off. A ripple of laughter ran along the benches. “As good as a play!” some one said. I did not understand. Surely she must come soon.
Yes, she was coming at last. I caught the tinkle of a hand-bell, the sentry stood at attention, Haldane hurried into the house. I rose.
She came out and, thank God, she did not know. She did not know, for her eyes sought mine, she turned towards me. She even gave me a pitiful shadow of a smile, as if, after wading through deep waters, she saw land ahead. I went to her. The men about us rose and remained standing as we walked away together. She turned in the direction of my quarters.