He wanted to think calmly and dispassionately; he meant to weigh all he had read and heard and form his estimate of the gravity of the case before going to bed. He meant to be impartial,--to judge her as he would judge any other woman so compromised; but for the life of him he could not. He bore with him the mute image of her lovely face, with its clear, truthful, trustful dark eyes. He saw her as she stood before him on the little porch when they shook hands on their laughing--or his laughing--compact, for she would not laugh. How perfect she was!--her radiant beauty, her uplifted eyes, so full of their self-reproach and regret at the speech she had made at his expense! How exquisite was the grace of her slender, rounded form as she stood there before him, one slim hand half shyly extended to meet the cordial clasp of his own! He wanted to judge and be just; but that image dismayed him. How could he look on this picture and then--on that,--the one portrayed in the chain of circumstantial evidence which the colonel had laid before him? It was monstrous! it was treason to womanhood! One look in her eyes, superb in their innocence, was too much for his determined impartiality. Armitage gave himself a mental kick for what he termed his imbecility, and went back to the hotel. "It's no use," he muttered. "I'm a slave of the weed, and can't be philosophic without my pipe." Up to his little box of a room he climbed, found his pipe-case and tobacco-pouch, and in five minutes was strolling out to the point once more, when he came suddenly upon the night-watchman,--a personage of whose functions and authority he was entirely ignorant. The man eyed him narrowly, and essayed to speak. Not knowing him, and desiring to be alone, Armitage pushed past, and was surprised to find that a hand was on his shoulder and the man at his side before he had gone a rod. "Beg pardon, sir," said the watchman, gruffly, "but I don't know you. Are you stopping at the hotel?" "I am," said Armitage, coolly, taking his pipe from his lips and blowing a cloud over his other shoulder. "And who may you be?" "I am the watchman; and I do not remember seeing you come to-day." "Nevertheless I did." "On what train, sir?" "This afternoon's up-train." "You certainly were not on the omnibus when it got here." "Very true. I walked over from beyond the school-house." "You must excuse me, sir. I did not think of that; and the manager requires me to know everybody. Is this Major Armitage?" "Armitage is my name, but I'm not a major." "Yes, sir; I'm glad to be set right. And the other gentleman,--him as was inquiring for Colonel Maynard to-night? He's in the army, too, but his name don't seem to be on the book. He only came in on the late train." "Another man to see Colonel Maynard?" asked the captain, with sudden interest. "Just come in, you say. I'm sure I've no idea. What was he like?"