She was sorry that Challoner had not proved more amenable, since his stubbornness forced her into a distasteful line of action, but she could not spare him when her lover's future was at stake.

"After all," she said, "a soldier's official record is sometimes as little to be trusted as you think his friends' estimate of him ought to be. I have an instance in view; two men I know took part in an action on the Indian frontier, and one gained a reputation for courage, and the other obloquy. As it happened, neither was deserved."

"On the Indian frontier?" Challoner glanced at her sharply.

"Yes; some time since. A night attack was made upon a hill which formed the key to the position of a small British force. An order to retreat was wrongly given."

"Ah!" said Challoner; "I have good reason to remember that affair. May I ask what you know about it?"

"I'm convinced I know the truth, which has been concealed."

Challoner started and his face grew eager. "Then your knowledge is of great importance and I must beg you to share it with me. It may clear a man I have a strong affection for."

"At the cost of involving another."

"I suppose that follows."

"Then you do not believe it wiser to let a painful matter which is already almost forgotten rest? You would rake it up, even if it brought trouble upon innocent people?"

"Justice must be done," said Challoner. "I have always hated jobbery.

If a wrong has been committed, it must be put right."

"You no doubt know that the order to retreat could only have been given by one of two officers?"

There were signs of tension in Challoner's face and Mrs. Chudleigh pitied him, but she was forced to be merciless.

"That seems to have been taken for granted. What then?"

"It was a dark night and n.o.body saw who gave the order, but Blake was stationed with his electric apparatus in the ravine and the bugler some distance behind him. Besides, the latter was attached to Captain Challoner's company."

"But Blake did not fire the mine." Challoner's voice was strained.

"That is true. The conclusion was that he had deserted his post, but I believe it must be wrong because he was seen busy with the wires."

"Who saw him?"

"One of his comrades, after the attack began, and it seems impossible that Blake could have reached the bugler when the retreat was sounded.

There were one or two other points which might have been raised, only that he made no defence. I will mention them."

She had after a long and careful consideration arranged her evidence in a skilful manner. Facts which had appeared of minor importance to the men who had noticed them had now, as she handled them, a telling effect and Challoner grew troubled.

"If needful, I believe I could prove all this, though it would require strong pressure to make my informant speak," she concluded. "You must see what it implies?"

"That my son is a coward and gave the shameful order?" Challoner's eyes glittered, though his face was colourless. "It's unthinkable!"

"Nevertheless it's true. Why did he, without permission and abusing his authority over the guard, spend two hours late at night with Blake who was under arrest? What had they to say that took so long, when there was a risk of Captain Challoner's being discovered? Why did Blake make no defence, unless it was because he knew that to clear himself would throw the blame upon his friend?"

"You press me hard," said Challoner in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "But that my son should so have failed in his duty to his country and his cousin is impossible."

"Yet you were willing to believe your nephew guilty. Had you any cause to doubt his courage?"

"No," said Challoner. "I used to think he loved a risk."

He felt beaten by her remorseless reasoning; there was scarcely a point he could contest and his heart grew very heavy. A conviction that humbled him to the dust was being forced on him.

"There is only one conclusion," Mrs. Chudleigh resumed. "The order to retreat was given by the weaker man, Bertram Challoner."

He turned to her with a gesture that begged her to desist. "My dear lady, this is very painful. I must try to think it out calmly, and I am not able now."

For a time there was strained silence, and Mrs. Chudleigh waited until he roused himself.

"I must know if what you have told me has any bearing on your request that I should recommend Captain Sedgwick's appointment?"

She paused before she answered, for he was very stern and peremptory.

"Not a direct one. I have kept the secret out of consideration for you and your son, but since I have done so, I ventured to believe you would not refuse me a favour that would only cost you a few words to your friend."

"I'm relieved to hear it," Challoner grimly replied. "You wish to appeal to my grat.i.tude and not my fears? Has it struck you that, if you are correct in your conclusions, by keeping silent you were wronging an innocent man?"

"Think!" she said impressively. "In a sense, Blake stands by himself, a man of no importance; your son is heir to a fine estate and is expected to carry on the traditions of the family. He has a young wife who adores him, and many friends. Is a career such as lies before him to be destroyed by one weak action which he has since well atoned for?

I believe your nephew saw that his cousin's disgrace would be a disaster and felt that at any cost the situation must be saved."

Challoner regarded her with a stern smile. "One would imagine that you are trying to heighten the value of your silence."

"You misjudge me, but since you take this line, I have some claim on your grat.i.tude. Can you deny it?"

"I had better answer frankly. If my opinion is desired, I will try to consider Captain Sedgwick's appointment on its merits. You must not count on more than this."

Mrs. Chudleigh rose and they turned back to the road in silence. It looked as if she had failed, but she would not give up the game yet.

When Challoner had time to think he would, no doubt, realize the necessity of safeguarding his son's good name and even his austere uprightness might fail to stand the strain.

It was half an hour later when Mrs. Keith, who had walked as fast as she was able, met Foster and the others coming back. She stopped, hot and breathless, with keen disappointment, for neither Colonel Challoner nor Mrs. Chudleigh were among them. Then, rousing herself, with an effort, she asked where they were.

"I can't tell," Mrs. Foster replied. "They dropped behind us and may have gone home. Mrs. Chudleigh soon gets tired of walking."

Mrs. Keith's heart sank and Foster noticed her expression. "It's a good way from Hazlehurst, but you look as if you had been hurrying," he remarked. "Are you very much disappointed that you didn't meet us earlier?"

"I am disappointed that I missed Challoner," Mrs. Keith answered with a forced smile.

Foster, who gave her a keen glance, tactfully talked about his shooting as they went back together, and on reaching the house they found that Challoner had already driven home.

CHAPTER XIX

CHALLONER'S DECISION

The morning was mild and Challoner paced slowly up and down his shrubbery. Bright sunshine fell upon him, the ma.s.sed evergreens cut off the wind, and in a sheltered border spear-like green points were pushing through the soil in promise of the spring. Challoner knew them all, the veined crocus blades, the tight-closed heads of the hyacinths, and the twin shoots of the daffodils, but, fond as he was of his garden, he gave them scanty attention, and by and by sat down in a sheltered nook lost in painful thought. He had a careworn look and had left the house in a restless mood with a wish to be alone in the open air.