"Any visitors today through all this storm?" she asked, carelessly.

"No out an' out company," he said, glancing around. "A boy from the Harris plantation did stop in out o' the rain, jest now. He got the lend of a coat, an' left his wet one, that how--"

He looked anxiously at the slip of paper yet in her fingers. She smiled and entered her own room, where everything was prepared for her journey the following day. She glanced about grimly and wondered where that journey would end--it depended so much on the temper of the man who was now reading the evidence against her--the proof absolute that she was the Federal agent sought for vainly by the Confederate authorities. She had told him nothing of the motive prompting her to the work--it had been merely a plain statement of work accomplished.

Her door was left ajar and she listened nervously for his step, his voice. It seemed hours since she had sent him the message--the time had really not been long except in her imagination. And the little slip of paper just received held a threat directed towards him! In an hour, at most, the men she had sent for would be there; she had laid the plan for his ruin, and now was wild to think she could noways save him! If she had dared to go to him, plead with him to leave at once, persuade him through his love for her--but it seemed ages too late for that! And she could only await his summons, which she expected every moment; she could not even conjecture what he meant to do.

Neither could Captain Masterson, who stood in McVeigh's room, staring incredulously at his superior officer.

"Colonel, are you serious in this matter? You actually mean to let Captain Monroe go free?"

"Absolutely free," said McVeigh, who was writing an order, and continued writing without looking up. "I understand your surprise, but we arrested an innocent man."

"I don't mean to question your judgment, Colonel, but the evidence--"

"The evidence was circ.u.mstantial. That evidence has been refuted by facts not to be ignored." Masterson looked at him inquiringly, a look comprehended by McVeigh, who touched the bell for Pluto.

"I must have time to consider before I decide what to do with those facts," he continued. "I shall know tonight."

"And in the meantime what are we to do with the squad from down the river?" asked Masterson, grimly. "They have just arrived to take him for court martial; they are waiting your orders."

"I will have their instructions ready in an hour."

"They bring the report of some definite action on the slavery question by the Federal authorities," remarked Masterson, with a smile of derision. "Lincoln has proclaimed freedom for our slaves, the order is to go into effect the first of the year, unless we promise to be good, lay down our arms, and enter the Union."

"The first of the year is three months away, plenty of time to think it over;" he locked his desk and arose. "Excuse me now, Phil," he said, kindly, "I must go down and speak with Captain Monroe." He paused at the door, and Masterson noticed that his face was very pale and his lips had a strange, set expression. Whatever task he had before him was not easy to face! "You might help me in this," he added, "by telling my mother we must make what amends we can to him--if any amends are possible for such indignities."

He went slowly down the stairs and entered the library. Monroe was wiping the rain from his coat collar and holding a dripping hat at arm's length.

"Since you insist on my afternoon calls, Colonel McVeigh, I wish you would arrange them with some regard to the elements," he remarked. "I was at least dry, and safe, where I was."

But there was no answering light in McVeigh's eyes. He had been fighting a hard battle with himself, and the end was not yet.

"Captain Monroe, it is many hours too late for apologies to you," he said, gravely, "but I do apologize, and--you are at liberty."

"Going to turn me out in a storm like this?" inquired his late prisoner, but McVeigh held out his hand.

"Not so long as you will honor my house by remaining," and Monroe, after one searching glance, took the offered hand in silence.

McVeigh tried to speak, but turned and walked across to the window.

After a moment he came back.

"I know, now, you could have cleared yourself by speaking," he said; "yes, I know all," as Monroe looked at him questioningly. "I know you have borne disgrace and risked death for a chivalrous instinct. May I"--he hesitated as he realized he was now asking a favor of the man he had insulted--"may I ask that you remain silent to all but me, and that you pardon the injustice done you? I did not know--"

"Oh, the silence is understood," said Monroe, "and as for the rest--we will forget it; the evidence was enough to hang a man these exciting times."

"And you ran the risk? Captain, you may wonder that I ask your silence, but you talked with her here; you probably know that to me she is--"

Monroe raised his hand in protest.

"I don't know anything, Colonel. I heard you were a benedict, but it may be only hearsay; I was not a witness; if I had been you would not have found me a silent one! But it is too late now, and we had better not talk about it," he said, anxious to get away from the strained, unhappy eyes of the man he has always known as the most care-free of cadets. "With your permission I will pay my respects to your sister, whom I noticed across the hall, but in the meantime, I don't know a thing!"

As he crossed the hall Gertrude Loring descended the stairs and paused, looking after him wonderingly, and then turned into the library. Colonel McVeigh was seated at the table again, his face buried in his hands.

"Kenneth!"

He raised his head, and she hesitated, staring at him. "Kenneth, you are ill; you--"

"No; it is really nothing," he said, as he rose, "I am a trifle tired, I believe; absurd, isn't it? and--and very busy just now, so--"

"Oh, I shan't detain you a moment," she said, hastily, "but I saw Captain Monroe in the hall, and I was so amazed when Phil told us you had released him."

"I knew you would be, but he is an innocent man, and his arrest was all a mistake. Pray, tell mother for me that I have apologized to Captain Monroe, and he is to be our guest until tomorrow. I am sure she will be pleased to hear it."

"Oh, yes, of course," agreed Gertrude, "but Kenneth, the guard has arrived, and who will they take in his place for court-martial?"

She spoke lightly, but there was a subtle meaning back of her words.

He felt it, and met her gaze with a sombre smile.

"Perhaps myself," he answered, quietly.

"Oh, Kenneth!"

"There, there!" he said, rea.s.suringly; "don't worry about the future, what is, is enough for today, little girl."

He had opened the door for her as though anxious to be alone; she understood, and was almost in the hall when the other door into the library opened, and glancing over her shoulder she saw Judithe standing there gazing after her, with a peculiar look.

She glanced up at Kenneth McVeigh, and saw his face suddenly grow white, and stern; then the door closed on her, and those two were left alone together. She stood outside the door for a full minute, amazed at the strange look in his eyes, and in hers, as they faced each other, and as she moved away she wondered at the silence there--neither of them had spoken.

They looked at each other as the door closed, a world of appeal in her eyes, but there was no response in his; a few hours ago she meant all of life to him--and now!--

With a quick sigh she turned and crossed to the window; drawing back the curtain she looked out, but all the heavens seemed weeping with some endless woe. The light of the lamp was better, and she drew the curtains close, and faced him again.

"You have read--all?"

He bent his head in a.s.sent.

"And Captain Monroe?"

"Captain Monroe is at liberty. I have accepted your confession, and acted upon it."

"You accept that part of my letter, but not my other request," she said, despairingly. "I begged that you make some excuse and leave for your command at once--today--do you refuse to heed that?"

"I do," he said, coldly.

"Is it on my account?" she demanded; "if so, put me under arrest; send me to one of the forts; do anything to a.s.sure yourself of my inability to work against your cause, though I promise you I never shall again.

Oh, I know you do not trust me, and I shan't ask you to; I only ask you to send me anywhere you like, if you will only start for your command at once; for your own sake I beg you; for your own sake you must go!"