His mind
dwelt upon her flushed cheeks, her earnest face, her wealth of glossy
hair, her dark eyes filled with mingled roguery and thoughtfulness,--in
utter unconsciousness that he was already her humble slave. Suddenly
there occurred to him a recollection of Silent Murphy, and his strange,
unguarded remark. What could the fellow have meant? Was there,
indeed, some secret in the life history of this young girl?--some story
of shame, perhaps? If so, did Hampton know about it?
Already daylight rested white and solemn over the silent valley, and
only a short distance away lay the spot where the crippled scout had
made his solitary camp. Almost without volition the young officer
turned that way, crossed the stream by means of the log, and clambered
up the bank. But it was clear at a glance that Murphy had deserted the
spot. Convinced of this, Brant retraced his steps toward the camp of
his own troop, now already astir with the duties of early morning.
Just in front of his tent he encountered his first sergeant.
"Watson," he questioned, as the latter saluted and stood at attention,
"do you know a man called Silent Murphy?"
"The scout? Yes, sir; knew him as long ago as when he was corporal in
your father's troop.
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