A bombshell exploding in the room could not have astonished them as did
my answer. I realized to the full the probable result, but my spirit
was high, and I felt the utter uselessness of prolonging the interview.
Sooner or later the same end must come.

Sheridan's face, naturally flushed, instantly grew crimson, and a
dangerous light flamed into his fierce eyes. For a moment he seemed
unable to speak; then he thundered forth:

"You young fool! I can tell you that you will speak before another
twenty-four hours, or I'll hang you for a spy if it cost me my command.
Major Brennan, take this young popinjay to the Mansion House under
guard."

Brennan stepped forward, smiling as if he enjoyed the part assigned to
him.

"Come on, you Johnny," he said coarsely, his hand closing heavily on my
arm. Then, seeming unable to repress his pleasure at the ending of the
interview, and his present sense of power, he bent lower, so that his
insolent words should not reach the others, and hissed hotly:

"Stealing women is probably more in your line than this."

At the sneering words, and the insulting look which accompanied them,
my blood, already boiling, leaped into sudden fire. All the fierce
hatred engendered within me by his past treatment, his cowardly
insinuations, his unknown yet intimate relationship to the woman I
loved, flamed up in irresistible power, and I struck him with my open