d by that woman--or by
others--and that it was a clumsy forgery." He stopped, and seeing the
hopeless bewilderment in the face of the wounded man, added more kindly:
"But we will not talk of that in your present condition. The doctor says
a few hours will put you straight again. Get strong, for I want you to
lose no time--for your own sake--to report yourself at Washington."

"Report myself--at Washington!" repeated Brant slowly.

"That was last night's order," said the commander, with military
curtness. Then he burst out: "I don't understand it, Brant! I believe
you have been misunderstood, misrepresented, perhaps maligned and I
shall make it MY business to see the thing through--but those are
the Department orders. And for the present--I am sorry to say you are
relieved of your command."

He turned away, and Brant closed his eyes. With them it seemed to
him that he closed his career. No one would ever understand his
explanation--even had he been tempted to give one, and he knew he never
would. Everything was over now! Even this wretched bullet had not struck
him fairly, and culminated his fate as it might! For an instant, he
recalled his wife's last offer to fly with him beyond the seas--beyond
this cruel injustice--but even as he recalled it, he knew that flight
meant the worst of all--a half-confession! But she had escaped! Thank
God for that! Again and again in his hopeless perplexity this comfort
returned to him,--he had saved her; he had done his duty. And harping
upon this in his strange fatalism, it at last seemed to him that this
was for what he had lived--for what he had suffered--for what he had
fitly ended his career. Perhaps it was left for him now to pass
his remaining years in forgotten exile--even as his father had--his
father!--his breath came quickly at the thought--God knows! perhaps as
wrongfully accused! It may have been a Providence that she had borne him
no child, to whom this dreadful heritage could be again transmitted.

There was something of this strange and fateful resignation in his face,
a few hours later, when he was able to be helped again into the saddle.
But he could see in the eyes of the few comrades who commiseratingly
took leave of him, a vague, half-repressed awe of some indefinite
weakness in the man, that mingled with their heartfelt parting with a
gallant soldier. Yet even this touched him no longer. He cast a glance
at the house and the room where he had parted from her, at