And that harm had been done he never knew till later.
He had managed to put mother off until the following day; had gone forth a second time, as has been told; had passed a second time the gate where earlier in the evening she had awaited him. All at the moment was apparently quiet. He had almost reached home when the sound of harsh voices out beyond the east gate caught his ear--more poor devils coming or being dragged home from the hog ranch. Suddenly there came the sound of muffled curses and blows. Sandy wondered why No. 2 did not call the corporal. He hastened onward and out beyond the gate and came upon the explanation: no need to call the corporal when two were already there, with several of the guard, striving hard to lug peaceably to the prison room a sextette of soldier revelers who resented being either lugged or persuaded. The guard couldn't bear to hurt their fellows: who could say but that conditions and parties might be reversed within the week? The row subsided with the sight of Lieutenant Ray, but not until it had prevented his hearing the call for the corporal that came from No. 4. He found the front door bolted when he got back to the house, and, remembering having bolted it, passed round to the rear steps and then--met his mother at the door.
She had even more to ask him then, yet once more he pleaded: "Wait until to-morrow night." So wait she did, patiently, prayerfully, trustfully, until the morrow's night; and then, not so patiently, but, oh, even more prayerfully, longer, very much longer.
"At the usual place and about the usual hour" the pretty phaeton, with its fair charioteer and her black-browed companion, drew up that afternoon under such shade as the cottonwoods afforded and waited for the coming of a rider who, starting some time ahead, was now some time behind. Nor did he seem to hasten when finally he came suddenly into view at the mouth of that well-remembered ravine, and rode straight but slowly to the rendezvous. She, the charioteer, exquisitely gowned as we saw her parting from her invalid husband, watched him with dilating eyes, alighted as he neared the grove, walked a dozen yards or so to meet him and by his side as he led his mount to a point beyond earshot of the carriage. "_You_ may trust that woman, Mrs. Dwight," said he, "but I do not. I have come at last and against my judgment to hear----"