active soldier, the
mystery that attended his fate aroused the most painful feelings. Was it
due simply to a moonlight brawl, were any of the disaffected men of the
garrison concerned in it, or had some of the American prisoners, in
attempting to effect their escape, committed the deed? A thorough
investigation took place, but no clue to the tragedy could be found.
Roderick Hardinge was particularly distressed. After exhausting all the
means of inquiry, a suspicion of the truth flashed upon him, and roused
the stormiest indignation in his mind. His vexation was the greater,
that, if his conjecture were correct, it would place him in a difficult
position towards the Belmonts. Once already; as he only too well
remembered, his military duties had led him to a bitter misunderstanding
with Pauline's father, and several times since, the operation of the
same cause had rendered their mutual relations very precarious. Both of
them had made concessions, and the young officer was generous enough to
admit to himself that M. Belmont had borne a very trying part in the
most noble spirit. But, in the present instance, the element of
publicity in Donald's death was a particularly disturbing circumstance,
and it preyed so much on Roderick's mind that for two or three days he
avoided calling at the house of M. Belmont. Pauline and her father
noticed the absence without being able to account for it. They had
indeed heard of Donald's death, but it never entered into their remotest
suspicions that Batoche had anything to do with it. At length, when his
mind was calmer, Hardinge went to inquire after the health of Cary
Singleton. He made that appear the main object of his visit. In spite of
himself he was constrained in manner while addressing a few words to M.
Belmont, and even towards Pauline he appeared cold and formal.

On conducting him to the door, the girl ventured to ask him whether he
was ailing.

"I am ailing in mind, Pauline. I have tried my best to make things
pleasant with my friends," and he looked sharply at her--"but this
outrageous murder of my old servant has upset nearly all my
calculations. I don't know what may come of it yet."

Pauline understood nothing of his speech, but when she repeated it to
her father, he grew very excited and angry.

"It is the hardest thing in life to serve two masters, my dear. Roderick
is a fine fellow, but perhaps if you or I had known less of him, our
course would have been simpler, and