“It’s at Boone’s risk.  He would have him moved, and the surgeon-general gave him carte blanche with the patient.”

“Well, it will cost the man his life.  I’ll stake my diploma on that.  Why, the journey to Warchester alone is enough to down the most vigorous convalescent.”

Kate trembled.  What did this mean?  What was she hearing?  Boone—­Warchester?  Whom had her father been taking from the hospital—­Jack?  Her heart gave a wild leap.  Yes—­Jack.  Who else did her father know in the army?  She arose trembling, fainting, but resolute.  She reached the open door, but tried for a moment in vain to ask: 

“If you please, tell me, tell me—­” But she could say no more.  The occupants of the room, in undress uniform, turned upon her at first in hostile surprise, but, as she threw her veil farther back in alarm, the elder of the two said: 

“Pray, madam, what is it; are you ill?”

“No; may I sit down, please?  Thank you.  I am come to, to—­” What should she say?  How expose the doubt of her father?  How find out for certain who had been removed to Warchester—­abducted was the word her agitated thoughts shaped.  Oh, if Olympia, intrepid, self-possessed, were only with her!—­but no, not Olympia; no one must ever know the unutterable crime she suspected her father of.  She must be brave.  She must be resolute.  Oh, where were her arts now, when she most needed them?  She tried to speak.  A hoarse gasping came in her throat and died there.

“Ah—­ah—­some water!—­I—­I am faint.”

In an instant a goblet of cool water was at her lips.  She drank slowly, deliberating all the time to recover her senses; the surgeons—­both young men, mere lads—­waiting respectfully, inferring much from the melancholy robes.  The water cooled her head, and she began to be able to think coherently.

“I have the surgeon-general’s permit to visit a patient in your fever ward—­Jones, the name is.  Can I see him?”

“Pray, let me see the permit, madam?” He glanced at it, looked significantly at his comrade, and said: 

“This man was removed three days ago.”

“Whereto?”

“Warchester.”

“Ah!” Kate’s veil, by an imperceptible gesture, fell over part of her face.  A great trembling came upon her again.  The young surgeons exchanged glances.

“Who—­who—­did—­who asked for his removal?”

“A Mr. Boone, also of Warchester.”

“Thank you—­I am too late—­I wanted to—­to ask this Mr. Jones some questions concerning a dear friend in his regiment.  But I can write, if you will kindly give me the address.”

“I am very sorry—­beyond Warchester we have no record here of his whereabouts.  If he had been officially transferred to another government hospital, we should have all the facts.  But the removal was a personal favor to Mr. Boone.  He is well known both here and in Warchester, and you can have no difficulty in communicating with him.”