"The thought had not so much as occurred to me. Yet what you
tell me, sir, lifts something of the load from my mind."

"Does it? Well, it lifts no load from mine," was the angry
retort. He stood considering. Then with an impatient gesture he
seemed to dismiss his thoughts. "I can do nothing," he said,
"nothing without being false to my duty and becoming as bad as
you have been, O'Moy, and without any of the sentimental
justification that existed in your case. I can't allow the
matter to be dropped, stifled. I have never been guilty of such
a thing, and I refuse to become guilty of it now. I refuse - do
you understand? O'Moy, you have acted; and you must take the
consequences, and be damned to you."

"Faith, I've never asked you to help me, sir," Sir Terence protested.

"And you don't intend to, I suppose?"

"I do not."

"I am glad of that." He was in one of those rages which were as
terrible as they were rare with him. "I wouldn't have you suppose
that I make laws for the sake of rescuing people from the
consequences of disobeying them. Here is this brother-in-law of
yours, this fellow Butler, who has made enough mischief in the
country to imperil our relations with our allies. And I am half
pledged to condone his adventure at Tavora. There's nothing for
it, O'Moy. As your friend, I am infernally angry with you for
placing yourself in this position; as your commanding officer I
can only order you under arrest and convene a court-martial to