She had even a more tender sympathy for his simpler traits, the filial friendship which he still manifested for Judge Roscoe, his affectionate remembrance of the little children of the household, the blended pride and delicacy with which he restrained all expression of the feeling he entertained toward her, that might seem to seek to utilize and magnify her unguarded admissions on the witness-stand,--influenced, as he feared, by her anxiety lest her rejection of his suit should militate to his disadvantage in the estimation of the court. In truth, however, there was scant need of his reserve on this point, for she made no disguise of her sentiment toward him. It became obvious, not only to him, but to all with whom she spoke. Indeed, she would have married him then, that she might be near him, that she might share his calamities, even while his disgrace, his everlasting contumely, seemed already accomplished, and he had scarcely a chance for life itself. And yet, hardly less than he, she valued those finer vibrations of chivalric ethics to which his every fibre thrilled. "I know that you are the very soul of honor," she said to him, "and that this certain assurance ought to be sufficient to nullify the stings of calumny,--but I had rather that you had died long ago, that I had never seen you, that I were dead myself, than that your record as a soldier, your probity as a man, the truth, the eternal truth, should even be questioned." Judge Roscoe, too, was infinitely dismayed by this strange blunder of circumstance, and flinched under the sense of responsibility, of a breach of hospitality, albeit unintentional, that his guest should incur so desperate a disaster by reason of a sojourn under his roof. Baynell was constrained to comfort them both, but in the hope to which he magnanimously affected to appeal he had scant confidence indeed. Even amidst the turmoil of his emotions and the crisis of his personal jeopardy he did not forget that the hand that hurled the bolts of doom had been innocent of cruel intent. "Never let her know," he warned Judge Roscoe, again and again. For although the testimony of the deaf-mute must needs have been elicited, she would be grieved to learn that she had wrought all these woes. Though literally the truth, it had the deceptive functions of a lie. It traduced him. It convicted him, the faithful soldier, of treachery. It hurled him down from his honorable esteem, and he seemed the basest of the base, traitor to his comrades, false to his oath, renegade to his cause, recreant to every sanction that can control a gentleman, and stained with blood-guiltiness for every life that was sacrificed in the skirmish by reason of his secret colloguing with the enemy.