Herbert bowed in silence.
"That is all, good-by. I wish now to be alone with our chaplain," said
Colonel Le Noir, extending his hand.
Herbert pressed that wasted hand; silently sent up a prayer for the
dying wrong-doer, bowed gravely and withdrew.
It was almost eight o'clock, and Herbert thought that he would scarcely
have time to find Traverse before the drum should beat to quarters.
He was more fortunate than he had anticipated, for he had scarcely
turned the Grand Cathedral when he came full upon the young ensign.
"Ah! Traverse, I am very glad to meet you! I was just going to look for
you. Come immediately to my rooms, for I have a very important
communication to make to you. Colonel Le Noir is supposed to be dying.
He has given me a parcel to be handed to you, which I shrewdly suspect
to contain your intercepted correspondence for the last two years,"
said Herbert.
Traverse started and gazed upon his friend in amazement, and was about
to express his astonishment, when Herbert, seeing others approach, drew
the arm of his friend within his own, and they hurried silently on
toward Major Greyson's quarters.
They had scarcely got in and closed the door and stricken a light
before Traverse exclaimed impatiently: "Give it me!" and almost snatched the parcel from Herbert's hands.
"Whist! don't be impatient! I dare say it is all stale news!" said
Herbert, as he yielded up the prize.
They sat down together on each side of a little stand supporting a
light.
Herbert watched with sympathetic interest while Traverse tore open the
envelope and examined its contents.
They were, as Herbert had anticipated, letters from the mother and the
betrothed of Traverse--letters that had arrived and been intercepted,
from time to time, for the preceding two years.
There were blanks, also, directed in a hand strange to Traverse, but
familiar to Herbert as that of Old Hurricane, and those blanks inclosed
drafts upon a New Orleans bank, payable to the order of Traverse Rocke.
Traverse pushed all these latter aside with scarcely a glance and not a
word of inquiry, and began eagerly to examine the long-desired,
long-withheld letters from the dear ones at home.
His cheek flamed to see that every seal was broken, and the fresh aroma
of every heart-breathed word inhaled by others, before they reached
himself.
"Look here, Herbert! look here! Is not this insufferable? Every fond
word of my mother, every delicate and sacred expression of--of regard
from Clara, all read by the profane eyes of that man!"