"I certainly hope so," he put in earnestly. "I couldn't very well help being--with you."
"I believe that," and she lifted her eyes to his face.
"Yet I do not wish you to think me bold, or--or indiscreet. You do not think so, do you?"
"That idea has never once occurred to me, Miss McDonald. I am only too glad to be of service."
"It is good of you to say that; you see, there was no one else."
"Your father?" he suggested.
"But that is the very trouble," she insisted, rejoicing that he had thus unconsciously opened the way to her confession. "It is because my father is involved, is completely in her toils, that I am compelled to appeal to you. He will not listen to a word against her."
"Her? You refer to Mrs. Dupont?"
"Of course; why, I hadn't mentioned her name! How did you guess?"
"Because I am not entirely ignorant of conditions," he answered soberly. "Although I have only been at the post a short time, I have managed to see and hear a good deal. You know I chanced to become involved in the shooting of Lieutenant Gaskins, and then I saw you riding with Mrs. Dupont, and recognized her."
"Recognized?" in surprise. "Do you actually mean you knew her before?"
"Not as Mrs. Dupont, but as Vera Carson, years ago. She knew me at once, and sent your driver over to the barracks with a note."
"Why, how strange. She asked me so many questions, I wondered at the interest shown. Do you mind telling me what the note was about?"
"Not in the least. She referred to the past, and asked me to meet her."
"Were you--very intimate? Great friends?"
"We were engaged to be married," he acknowledged frankly, his eyes upon her face. "That was at the breaking out of the war, and I was in my senior college year. We met at school, and I was supposed to be the heir to a large property. She is a beautiful woman now, and she was a beautiful girl then. I thought her as good and true as she was charming. Since then I have learned her selfishness and deceit, that it was my money which attracted her, and that she really loved another man, a classmate."
She glanced up at him as he paused, but he resumed the story without being interrupted.
"The war came, and I enlisted at once, and received a commission. Almost our entire class went, and the man she really loved was next below me in rank."
"Eugene Le Fevre?"
"Yes; how did you know? Oh, I told you of him out there in the sand-hills. Well, I urged her to marry me before I went to the front, but she made excuses. Later, I understood the reason--she was uncertain as to my inheriting the property of an uncle. We were ordered to the Army of Northern Virginia. Once I went home on furlough, severely wounded. We were to be married then, but I had not sufficiently recovered when I was suddenly ordered back to the front. I did suspect then, for the first time, that she was glad of the respite. I afterwards discovered that during all this time she was in correspondence with Le Fevre, who had been detailed on Early's staff. It was his influence which brought about my sudden, unexpected recall to duty. A few months later I was promoted major, and, at Fisher's Hill, found myself commanding the regiment. Early in the action Le Fevre brought me an order; it was delivered verbally, the only other party present a corporal named Shultz, a German knowing little English. Early's exact words were: 'Advance at once across the creek, and engage the enemy fiercely; a supporting column will move immediately.' Desperate as the duty involved appeared, there was nothing in the order as given to arouse suspicion. In obedience I flung my command forward, leading them on foot. We charged into a trap, and were nearly annihilated, and Shultz was either killed, or made prisoner. Two days later I was arrested under charges, was tried by court-martial, and dismissed from the service in disgrace. Early produced a copy of his written order; it read 'cautiously feel the enemy's position,' and Le Fevre went on the stand, and swore the original had been delivered to me. I had no witnesses."