ime he did not speak, and there was
so strange a tumult in my breast that no words would come.

"Well," he said at last. "What are you thinking?"

"Of all this," I said huskily.

"And that as an officer and a gentleman I ought to have knocked Barton
down?"

"Something of the kind," I replied.

"Of course; and then, according to the code of honour among gentlemen, I
ought to fight him at daybreak to-morrow morning."

I was silent.

"Yes," he said passionately; "that is what you are thinking."

"I can't help it," I cried angrily. "He almost struck you, and the
khansamah saw it, and that other man too. It will be all over the
place. You must fight him now."

He looked at me very strangely, and I saw his brows contract as he said
gravely--

"Duelling is a thing of the past, Vincent; a cowardly, savage practice
in which the life of a man is at the mercy of his skilful adversary.
Life is too valuable to throw away in a quarrel. I do not feel as if I
had done all my work yet."

"But what can you do?" I said excitedly, for my brain was in a turmoil.
I loved him, but his conduct frightened me; it was so unlike anything I
could have expected from a gallant soldier; and there was a singularly
cold sensation of dread creeping over me. I felt afraid that I was
going to dislike him as one unworthy to be known, as I cried angrily,
"But what can you do?"

He looked at me as if he could read me through and through, and his face
grew very sad as he replied--

"There is the proper course open to me, Vincent, and that I am about to
do."

"Fight him?" I cried eagerly, and the miserable sensation of dread
began to pass off.

"No, boy; I am going to explain everything to Major Lacey, who will
report to head-quarters if he considers it right."

He passed slowly out of the room, and I heard his step echoing beneath
the broad verandah, as he went in the direction of Major Lacey's, while,
unable to restrain myself in my bitterness and contempt, I too got up
and hurried out.

"He is a coward!" I muttered; "a coward!"--for I could not see the
bravery of the man's self-control; "and I have been gradually growing to
like him, and think of him always as being patient and manly and noble.
Why, I would have tried to knock Barton down, if he had killed me for
it."

"Gone to report," I thought again, after a pause; "gone to tell, like a
little schoolboy who has been pushed down. Him a soldier; and a coward
like that!"