“Denies everything,—­anything,—­challenges me to prove that he was absent from his house more than five minutes,—­indeed, I could not, for he may have come in just after I left,—­and pretended utter ignorance of my meaning when I accused him of striking me before I ordered the sentry to fire.  Of course it is all useless now.  When I confront him with this letter he must give in.  Then let him resign and get away as quietly as possible before the end of the week.  No one need know the causes.  Of course shooting is what he deserves; but shooting demands explanation.  It is better for your name, hers, and all, that he should be allowed to live than that the truth were suspected, as it would be if he were killed.  Indeed, sir, if I were you I would take them to Sablon, keep them away for a fortnight, and leave him to me.  It may be even judicious to let him go on with all his duties as though nothing had happened, as though he had simply been absent from reveille, and let the whole matter drop like that until all remark and curiosity is lulled; then you can send her back to Europe or the East,—­time enough to decide on that; but I will privately tell him he must quit the service in six months, and show him why.  It isn’t the way it ought to be settled; it probably isn’t the way Armitage would do it; but it is the best thing that occurs to me.  One thing is certain:  you and they ought to get away at once, and he should not be permitted to see her again.  I can run the post a few days and explain matters after you go.”

The colonel sat in wretched silence a few moments; then he arose: 

“If it were not for her danger,—­her heart,—­I would never drop the matter here,—­never!  I would see it through to the bitter end.  But you are probably right as to the prudent course to take.  I’ll get them away on the noon train:  he thinks they do not start until later.  Now I must go and face it.  My God, Chester! could you look at that child and realize it?  Even now, even now, sir, I believe—­I believe, someway—­somehow—­she is innocent.”

“God grant it, sir!”

And then the colonel left the office, avoiding, as has been told, a word with any man.  Chester buttoned the tell-tale letter in an inner pocket, after having first folded the sheet lengthwise and then enclosed it in a long official envelope.  The officers, wondering at the colonel’s distraught appearance, had come thronging in, hoping for information, and then had gone, unsatisfied and disgusted, practically turned out by their crabbed senior captain.  The ladies, after chatting aimlessly about the quadrangle for half an hour, had decided that Mrs. Maynard must be ill, and, while most of them awaited the result, two of their number went to the colonel’s house and rang at the bell.  A servant appeared:  “Mrs. Maynard wasn’t very well this morning, and was breakfasting in her room, and Miss Alice was with her, if the ladies would please excuse them.”