Then the sisters faced each other.  There was a fire in the younger’s eye that Mrs. Rayner would have escaped if she could.

“Kate, it is to get Clancy away from the possibility of revealing what he knows that you have planned this sudden move, and I know it,” said Miss Travers.  “You need not answer.”

She seized a wrap from the hat-rack and stepped to the door-way.  Mrs. Rayner threw herself after her.

“Nellie, where are you going?  What will you do?”

“To Mrs. Waldron’s, Kate; if need be, to Mr. Hayne’s.”

* * * * *

A bright fire was burning in Major Waldron’s cosey parlor, where he and his good wife were seated in earnest talk.  It was just after sunset when Mr. Hayne dropped in to pay his first visit after the few days in which he had been confined to his quarters.  He was looking thin, paler than usual, and far more restless and eager in manner than of old.  The Waldrons welcomed him with more than usual warmth, and the major speedily led the conversation up to the topic which was so near to his heart.

“You and I must see the doctor and have a triangular council over this thing, Hayne.  Three heads are better than none; and if, as he suspects, old Clancy really knows anything when he’s drunk that he cannot tell when he’s sober, I shall depart from Mrs. Waldron’s principles and join the doctor in his pet scheme of getting him drunk again. ’In vino veritas,’ you know.  And we ought to be about it, too, for it won’t be long before his discharge comes, and, once away, we should be in the lurch.”

“There seems so little hope there, major.  Even the colonel has called him up and questioned him.”

“Ay, very true, but always when the old sergeant was sober.  It is when drunk that Clancy’s conscience pricks him to tell what he either knows or suspects.”

A light, quick footstep was heard on the piazza, the hall door opened, and without knock or ring, bursting impetuously in upon them, there suddenly appeared Miss Travers, her eyes dilated with excitement.  At sight of the group she stopped short, and colored to the very roots of her shining hair.

“How glad I am to see you, Nellie!” exclaimed Mrs. Waldron, as all rose to greet her.  An embarrassed, half-distraught reply was her only answer.  She had extended both hands to the elder lady; but now, startled, almost stunned, at finding herself in the presence of the very man she most wanted to see, she stood with downcast eyes, irresolute.  He, too, had not stepped forward,—­had not offered his hand.  She raised her blue eyes for one quick glance, and saw his pale, pain-thinned face, read anew the story of his patience, his suffering, his heroism, and realized how she too had wronged him and that her very awkwardness and silence might tell him that shameful fact.  It was more than she could stand.