thoughtless word of mine should ever endanger the reputation of Edith
Brennan. Right or wrong, I would go to a death of dishonor before I
would speak without her authority. Love and pride conspired to make
this decision adamant. There might, indeed, be no reason why I should
not speak with utmost freedom; but as to this I could not judge, and
therefore preferred the safer side of silence. The action of Brennan
had impressed this upon me as a duty; had caused me to feel that I
could best serve her by blotting out the adventures of the night
before. Seemingly it was her own desire, and as a gentleman, an
officer, a man of honor, I might not even question that decree.

Deeply as these considerations would have affected me under ordinary
conditions, one doubt now overshadowed them all. Was the man I struck
the husband of the woman I loved? This was what I desired to know even
above my own fate. I scarcely doubted, yet would not yield the slight
hope I retained that it might prove otherwise. A trick of chance speech
seemed to solve the problem, to answer that question which I durst not
ask directly.

"Come," said Caton, briefly, and I turned and accompanied him without
thought of resistance. At the front door he ordered the little squad of
waiting soldiers to fall in, and taking me by the arm, led the way down
the gravelled path to the road. I was impressed by his seeming
carelessness, but as we cleared the gateway he spoke, and his words
helped me to comprehend.

"Captain Wayne," he said quietly, so that the words could not be
overheard, "you do not recognize me, but I was the officer who
conducted you to headquarters when you brought the flag in at Wilson
Creek. Of course I must perform the duty given me, but I wish you to