Then it was Elise who demanded that they should
move. Elise was mad to go--Elise, who took a turn of her own, a
screaming fit, when the news came of the relief of Wren's little
force, of the death of their brave sergeant, of the strange tale that,
before dying, Carmody had breathed a confession to Lieutenant Blakely,
which Blakely had reduced to writing before he set forth on his own
hapless mission. It was Mrs. Plume's turn now to have to play nurse
and comforter, and to strive to soothe, even to the extent of
promising that Elise should be permitted to start by the very next
stage to the distant sea, but when it came to securing passage, and in
feverish, nervous haste the Frenchwoman had packed her chosen
belongings into the one little trunk the stage people would consent to
carry, lo! there came to her a messenger from headquarters where
Colonel Byrne, grim, silent, saturnine, was again in charge. Any
attempt on her part to leave would result in her being turned over at
once to the civil authorities, and Elise understood and raved, but
risked not going to jail. Mullins, nursed by his devoted Norah, was
sitting up each day now, and had been seen by Colonel Byrne as that
veteran passed through, ten pounds lighter of frame and heavier of
heart than when he set forth, and Mullins had persisted in the story
that he had been set upon and stabbed by two women opposite Lieutenant
Blakely's quarters.
Pages:
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266