Dwight halted, resting his shaking hand on the back of a chair, and the shake went down through the back and legs to the very floor.
"In front of Cook's Bank. Mrs. Dwight was in an open carriage; why shouldn't I speak to her?" And the head went up and back, so like his father.
"No reason whatever, but why should she lie? Tell me that! Why should she swear that my boy, Margaret's boy, lied? Oh, my God, tell me that!"
"Major, Major!" pleaded Wallen, with outstretched hand. "This will never do. This----"
"Let him alone," said the senior bluntly. "It's got to come."
"Because," said Ray, looking straight at his man, "I was fool enough to fall in love with her the same time you did at Manila. Perhaps she thought I'd be blackguard enough to follow her after she became your wife."
"You--you met her--called upon her--at the Grand, I remember."
"I did, and I'd do the same thing again. I wanted my letters, and I had a right to them. She said that she had burned them all, and that ended it. There's never been a line between us since. I have never seen her since--when I could decently avoid it. I hope to God I'll never have to see her--again."
"There, there, Dwight, that's more than enough," said Dr. Waring, watching narrowly the working features. "Thank you, Ray. Nothing more could be asked or expected." Then, _sotto voce_, "Get out quick!" and Ray, every nerve athrill, passed forth into the hallway, passed another door, which quickly opened, and out came Félicie, finger on lip, eyes dilated, one hand held forth in eager appeal.
"Oh, Monsieur--Mr. Ray, just one second, I implore--Madame implores. She beg to see you." And the hand just grazed his arm, as he burst impetuously, angrily by. "You go to ----" was on his furious lip, but he bit the words in twain and bolted down the stairs and out into the open air, mopping his heated brow.
The adjutant was coming swiftly up the row. He had hastened forth from a vine-covered piazza well toward the eastward end just as Ray, with heart still hammering, came limping again into the glare of the sunlight. As they neared each other--the staff officer with quick, springy step, the subaltern somewhat halting and lame--the latter caught sight of a sabre swinging at the senior's hip. What but one thing at that hour of the day could this portend? One moment brought the answer: