there, wishing myself a hundred miles away; but his manner
gave me no chance to fob him off with an excuse, or pretend I had
dropped in for a passing call. There was nothing for it but to out
with my story, and into it I plunged somehow, my tongue stammering
with shame. He listened, to be sure, but without offering to help me
over the hard places. Indeed, at the first mention of my poverty, I
saw all his first suspicions--whatever they had been--return and show
themselves in his blind eyes. His mouth was set like a closed trap.
Yet he heard me out, and, when I had done, his suspicions seemed to
have faded again, for he answered me considerately enough, though not
cordially.

"'Captain Branscome,' he said, 'I may tell you at once that I never
lend money; and my reason is partly that good seldom comes of it, and
partly that I am a poor man--if you can call a man poor who is by a
few pounds richer than his needs. But I have a great respect for
you'--the ladies will forgive me for repeating his exact words--'and
your voice seems to tell me that you still deserve it; that you have
suffered more than you say before being driven to make this appeal.
I can do something--though it be little--to help an old comrade.
Will you oblige me by stepping into the summer-house here, and taking
a seat while I go to the house? I will not keep you waiting more
than a few minutes.'

"He picked up his walking-stick, which rested against a chair, just
within the doorway, and stood for a moment while I stepped past him
and entered the summer-house; and so, with a nod of the head, turned
and walked towards the house, using his stick very skilfully to feel
his path between the bushes, and still keeping the flag tucked under
his left arm.

"So I sat and waited, ladies, on no good terms with myself. The way
of the borrower was hard, I found, and the harder because the Major's
manner had not been unkindly, but--if you'll understand my meaning--
only just kindly enough. In short, I don't know but that I must have
out and run rather than endure his charity, had not my thoughts been
distracted by this mystery over Captain Coffin. For the Major had
said too much, and yet not enough. The man I had seen crossing the
lane was certainly Coffin, but to connect him with Minden Cottage I
had no clue at all beyond the faint one, Harry, that you and he were
acquaintances. Besides, I had seen him, the morning before, in the
crowd around the prisoner