now. He
seized her hand--released it as suddenly.

"Tell me instantly. There's no time to lose. He goes at three."

And then at last, half sobbing, half raging with indignation, she
managed to tell her story.

Gleason had come in half an hour before, and walking at once into the
parlor, had sent up word that he wished to see her. She asked to be
excused, but he called up that it was a matter of the utmost importance,
and she came down. He closed the parlor door, stood between her and
escape, and then proceeded to accuse her of slights and wrongs to him,
and of interfering with his rights as a gentleman to pay his addresses
to Miss Sanford,--of prejudicing her against him. He accused her husband
of treating him with disdain, and then--she saw he had been drinking
heavily--he with wild triumph told her she was in his power; he had long
suspected her. She strove to check him and to call her servants (for a
wonder they weren't at the keyhole), but she was powerless against him.
Then he went on to denounce her as a faithless wife, and to accuse her
of a vile correspondence with a soldier,--an enlisted man, a sergeant
formerly of her husband's troop. He drew a letter from his pocket, and
with sneering emphasis read it aloud. It was an ardent love-letter from
Wolf, in which he raved of his love for her, spoke of other letters he
had written, and reminded her of his happiness in past meetings, and
begged to be told when he could see her alone. She was horror-stricken;
indignantly denied any knowledge of him whatever. He simply sneered, and
told her he meant to take that letter "to crush her husband with" the
first time he asserted any authority over him, and to hold as a menace
over her. Then she implored him as an officer, as a gentleman, to give
it to her, but he only added sneering insult.

Ray could hardly wait till she had finished. At first he blazed with
wrath, then that odd preternatural coolness and _sang-froid_ seemed to
steal over him. He looked at his watch--One thirty: time enough--then
asked a quiet question or two. Had any one heard? Did any one else know?
Not a soul. Whom could she tell? Whom could she call but him,--Mrs.
Stannard and Marion being away?

"Don't worry a particle. I'll have him here on his knees if need be. You
say Wolf was the signature. Do you know any----Why! does he mean that
good-looking German?"

And to his amaze she was blushing painfully.

"Yes, Mr. Ray, and he was with us at the