perfect
ingenuousness of Faulkner's speech, satisfied Brant that he had not only
elicited the truth, but that Miss Faulkner had been successful. But he
was sincere in his suggestion that her relationship to the young officer
would incline the division commander to look leniently upon his fault,
for he was conscious of a singular satisfaction in thus being able to
serve her. Of the real object of the two men before him he had no doubt.
They were "the friends" of his wife, who were waiting for her outside
the lines! Chance alone had saved her from being arrested with them,
with the consequent exposure of her treachery before his own men, who,
as yet, had no proof of her guilt, nor any suspicion of her actual
identity. Meanwhile his own chance of conveying her with safety beyond
his lines was not affected by the incident; the prisoners dare not
reveal what they knew of her, and it was with a grim triumph that he
thought of compassing her escape without their aid. Nothing of this,
however, was visible in his face, which the younger man watched with a
kind of boyish curiosity, while Colonel Lagrange regarded the ceiling
with a politely repressed yawn. "I regret," concluded Brant, as he
summoned the officer of the guard, "that I shall have to deprive you of
each other's company during the time you are here; but I shall see that
you, separately, want for nothing in your confinement."

"If this is with a view to separate interrogatory, general, I can retire
now," said Lagrange, rising, with ironical politeness.

"I believe I have all the information I require," returned Brant, with
undisturbed composure. Giving the necessary orders to his subaltern, he
acknowledged with equal calm the formal salutes of the two prisoners as
they were led away, and returned quickly to his bedroom above. He paused
instinctively for a moment before the closed door, and listened. There
was no sound from within. He unlocked the door, and opened it.

So quiet was the interior that for an instant, without glancing at
the bed, he cast a quick look at the window, which, till then, he had
forgotten, and which he remembered gave upon the veranda roof. But it
was still closed, and as he approached the bed, he saw his wife still
lying there, in the attitude in which he had left her. But her eyes were
ringed, and slightly filmed, as if with recent tears.

It was perhaps this circumstance that softened his voice, still harsh
with command, as he said,--