“What does it matter whether or not you have missed the chance of saying over the formal words? By every act and word and the breath you draw, you are protesting that you are a true man in your present standing. The man you will strike down to-night has had no hint of warning; miserable traitor as he is, he still believes you are his friend--not only his captain servant, but his friend. He trusts you with his love-letters to his wife; he takes you fully into his confidence. Is it not so?” “It is,” I confessed. And then I broke out passionately: “But my word is passed; I must not give this up, Beatrix! You must not make me give it up!” “And I shall not try, Dick, dear,” she went on in the same low tone. “I shall merely try to fit myself into this new, this terrible scheme of things: for I must believe in you: I must believe that you are doing the right and honorable thing, though every fiber of me shudders in horror at it. Oh, Dick, dear--don’t you see what a woman’s love must be?” God of love, but I did see! I saw that her ideal had fallen into ruins at her feet, and that she was trying to gather up the poor fragments, calling them precious, still! How swift and sure her stroke had been! How unerringly her keen unsullied sense of the higher right and wrong had set its arrow quivering in the very heart of the target! Yet in very shame I could not yield without a struggle. “The man is the basest of traitors; he has put himself beyond the pale of mercy,” I insisted. “I am not speaking for the man: God knows how I detest and fear him, though, for Peggy’s sake, I have tried to see only that humaner side of him she would have me see. Nor do I say one word for poor heart-broken Margaret, whom your deed will condemn to a living death. But for yourself ... for your honor’s honor: oh, Dick, dear; is it too late to save that?” I rose and went to stand beside her chair, knowing now that the angel I spoke of a while back had indeed come with the saving heavenly fire to light my poor candle that the vindictive blast had blown out. “No, Beatrix, love; it is not too late to stop, though it may well be too late to turn back in safety. There is another involved in this with me: a man from Major Lee’s Legion. He will be furious; but if I recant, he at least, must be saved.” “For so generous a thing as that, Dick, your own good heart will answer; you would never leave a subordinate to pay the score, of course,” she said with the air of one who knows full well that blood and breeding have their responsibilities that may not be pushed aside. From that I went a little deeper into the confessional pool, telling her how Seytoun had harried me, knowing that he was safe behind my promise to her, and how, if I should be happy enough ever to return alive to the Tappan camp, I should be branded from end to end of it if I should still refuse to fight Seytoun for his satisfaction.