It made an abject coward of him.
"I am willing to give you my word," he presently said. "And let me
tell you," he went on more rapidly, "I did not shoot at her. She
was behind you,"
"Your word as a British officer?"
Hamilton again stiffened and hesitated, but only for the briefest
space, then said:
"Yes, my word as a British officer."
Father Beret waved his hand with impatience.
"Go, then, back to your place in the fort and disturb, my people
no more. The soul of this poor little girl will haunt you forever.
Go!"
Hamilton stood a little while gazing at the face of Alice with the
horrible wistfulness of remorse. What would he not have given to
rub his eyes and find it all a dream?
He turned away; a cloud scudded across the moon; here and yonder
in the dim town cocks crowed with a lonesome, desultory effect.
Father Beret plucked up the rapier that he had wrenched from
Hamilton's hand. It suggested something.
"Hold!" he called out, "give me the scabbard of this sword."
Hamilton, who was striding vigorously in the direction of the
fort, turned about as the priest hastened to him.
"Give me the scabbard of this rapier; I want it. Take it off."
The command was not gently voiced. A hoarse, half-whisper winged
every word with an imperious threat.
Hamilton obeyed. His hands were not firm; his fingers fumbled
nervously; but he hurried, and Father Beret soon had the rapier
sheathed and secured at his belt beside its mate.
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