The situation, however, was uppermost in the colonel’s mind? He dropped the paper across his knee and knocked the ashes out of his cigar. Jacob’s smooth good looks had never been more apparent and he was dressed with his usual elaborate care. Nothing could have sat on him more lightly than the recent verdict, and the fact that he was out on bail. Colonel Royall, who was mortified by it, looked at him with a feeling of exasperation. “Been in town?” he asked, after the exchange of greetings, as Jacob ascended the piazza steps. “All the morning,” he replied, sitting down on the low balustrade and regarding the colonel from under heavy eyelids. “How is it? Quiet?” The colonel was always sneakingly conscious of a despicable feeling of panic when Jacob regarded him with that drooping but stony stare. “Militia is still out,” said Jacob calmly, “and if the disturbances continue the governor threatens to call on Colonel Ross for a company of regulars.” “He’s nervous,” commented the colonel reflectively. “I don’t wonder. How in the mischief did Aylett happen to be near Yarnall?” Jacob looked pensive. “I don’t know,” he said; “I was in the rear corridor by the State’s Attorney’s room. They say Aylett was crossing the quadrangle just in front of Yarnall.” The colonel smoked for a few moments in silence, then he took his cigar from between his teeth. “What were you doing in the corridor?” he asked pointedly. Jacob took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “I was going to Colonel Coad’s office, and I was the first to try to locate the shots outside the court-house.” “I was in Judge Ladd’s room,” said Colonel Royall deliberately, “and I reckon that was as near as I want to be. I see by this”--he touched the paper with his finger--“that Caleb Trench induced Juniper to surrender to the authorities, and he says that he’s sure he can prove the negro’s innocence.” Jacob laughed, showing his teeth unpleasantly. “Probably he can,” he remarked; “he’s under arrest himself.” The colonel swung around in his chair. “Caleb Trench? What for?” “For the assassination of Yarnall.” “By gum!” said the colonel in honest wrath, “what rotten nonsense!” Jacob said nothing; he continued to smoke his cigarette. The colonel slapped the paper down on his knee. “When men’s blood is heated, they run wild,” he said. “Why, Trench was Yarnall’s counsel; he’d won the case for him--he--” “Just so,” replied Jacob coolly; “you forget that Aylett had insulted Trench twice in court, that he despised him as heartily as I do and that Aylett was almost beside Yarnall!” The colonel pushed his hat back on his head and thought. He knew that Eaton hated Trench, but his mind did not embrace the enormity of a hatred that could revel in such an accusation. “The charge then must be that he meant to hit Aylett,” he said, after a long moment, “and that makes him take big risks. These Yankees aren’t good shots, half of ’em.”