He was watching Stafford with almost pitying curiosity. His keen
instinct penetrated the man's strained and nervous bearing to some
conflict which seemed to have had its birth with the first mention of
Nehal Singh's name.
"It will not be too late," Stafford answered persistently. "I ask for
an hour, Colonel. In an hour I shall know--whether--whether I have the
power."
"Captain Stafford, are you mad!" the Colonel said sternly. "This is
not a time for experiments."
"I ask for an hour," Stafford repeated, and there was an emphasis and
earnestness in his voice which cut short Colonel Carmichael's angry
sarcasm. "At the end of that time Nicholson can do what he likes. I am
not mad. I beg of you to ask no questions. I can not answer them. I
can only tell you that I have a great responsibility--toward you all
and toward another."
Colonel Carmichael was silent for a moment. Stafford's manner awed and
troubled him in spite of himself.
"Very well," he said at last. "I give you an hour. During that time we
will make preparations for the worst." He took out his watch. "It is
now eleven. At twelve the matter passes into Nicholson's hands."
Stafford saluted.
"I understand, Colonel."
Nicholson accompanied him toward the door.
"God-speed!" he said simply. Stafford hesitated, his heavy eyes
resting on the fine face of his brother-officer with an almost
passionate gratitude.
"Thank you, Nicholson, thank you.
Pages:
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304