fire-place, Hardinge having declined a seat.
Glancing at M. Belmont, Roderick was shocked at the change that had come
upon him within three days. He seemed like another man, his features
being pinched, his eyes sunken, and his manner quick and nervous. The
normal calm of his demeanor was gone, and his stately courtesy was
replaced by a restless petulance of hands. He stood uneasily near the
mantel waiting for the young officer to speak. Hardinge at length said:

"M. Belmont, this interview shall be brief, because it is painful to
both of us. Indeed, so far as I am concerned, there is only one word to
say, and it is this--that, although I have had some important military
duties to perform in the last few days, not one of these was or could be
directed against you."

M. Belmont looked dubiously at Hardinge and shook his head, but answered
nothing. Roderick bit his lip and resumed:

"The statement that I make, sir, though brief, covers the whole ground
of your suspicions and accusations. I know what these are and hence my
statement is very deliberate. I ask you to accept it as my complete
defence."

M. Belmont looked into the fire and still kept silent.

"Must I construe your silence as incredulity, sir? If so, I will
instantly leave your house, nevermore to enter it. But before taking
what to me will be a fatal step, I must observe that I had never
believed that a perfect French gentleman like you, M. Belmont, would
doubt the faith of a British officer like me, and my distress will be
intensified by the reflection that your daughter, who formerly favored
me with her esteem, will hereafter see in me only the brand of dishonor
stamped upon my character by her own father. For her sake I will say no
more, but take my departure at once."

At these words there were heard the rustling of a dress and suppressed
sobs outside the parlor door. Both the men noticed the sounds and
instinctively looked at each other. The eyes of Hardinge were suffused
with tears, while those of M. Belmont mellowed with an expression of
solemn pity.

"Stay, Lieutenant," he said in a low voice. "It strikes me all at once
that my silence may possibly be unjust. If I thought your statement
embraced all the circumstances of the case, I should not hesitate to
accept it, but I fear that you do not know how far my grievances
extend."

"I am certain that I know all," said Hardinge in a significant tone,
which was not lost upon his interlocutor, who i