At her request, our
engagement is at an end. But as her friend I can not refrain from
saying this much--she has not spared herself, and, God knows, she also
has not been treated well."
What memories passed before the Colonel's mind as he stood there gazing
absently in front of him! Recollections of mean and envious criticisms,
ugly underhand slanders, petty intrigue, his own shame-faced patronage!
And then the vision of a lovely, white-faced woman making her desperate
self-accusal, and of a terrible, vulgar mother trying to hold her back
with threats and pleadings! He turned at last to the two men, his own
face red and troubled.
"I apologize," he said. "I apologize all around. I seem to have been
insulting everybody in turn. I dare say you are all right. The Rajah
may be ill-used and Miss Cary well-meaning. I don't know. And what on
earth does it matter? The fat is in the fire, and here we stand
chattering like old women about how it got there. Something must be
done. The regiment is a day's march from here, and with a company of
your Gurkhas, Nicholson, we shan't do much--scarcely hold out if they
dare attack us."
"They will dare," Nicholson answered. "So much I know for certain, and
it will probably be to-night. I can vouch for my men, and we must do
our best until help comes. But--" He paused rather significantly.
"But what, man? Don't you think it will come in time? I have already
telegraphed.
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