lean legs,
sympathetically inquired "if he wasn't afraid he'd lose _all_ his
flesh," he was fully able to appreciate the feminine dexterity and
malice of the allusion. His quick wit could have suggested a deserved
repartee; but even in his misery Blake would say no wounding word to a
lady of the regiment. He had good reason to take very little comfort in
her, however, as an exponent of the regimental feeling on which the --th
had prided itself. Mrs. Turner was far too voluble on the subject of the
awful disgrace that had been brought on their good name by this fearful
tragedy, and while she hoped and prayed Mr. Ray might be innocent, it
was evident that she was far from believing it a possibility. Just now
her time was taken up with Mrs. Whaling and the infantry officers, for
there was a blockade at number 11. The ladies had twice asked to be
excused when Mrs. Whaling and Mrs. Turner called. Mrs. Truscott was
feeling unable to see any one, said the servant, but Mrs. Stannard was
with her.

But Blake had expected nothing better of Mrs. Turner, and attached
little importance to her opinion. What had stung him to the quick was
the sight of Ray's suffering when that note came back to him refused. He
was amazed at Mrs. Truscott, for to his masculine mind and to Ray's worn
and wearied senses only one construction of her conduct was
apparent,--she believed him guilty, and shrank from his note as she
would from his blood-stained hand. Of that desolate night neither he nor
Ray could ever be brought to speak thereafter. Blake sat for hours by
the bedside of his stricken friend listening in helpless misery and
wrath to the occasional changing of the sentries, and watching, as a
sorrowing mother might watch, Ray's wordless suffering. Most of the
night he lay with his face buried in his arms; but Blake could see by
the clinching hand, the shudders that often shook his frame, the
constant, nervous tapping of his foot beneath the coverlet, that he was
wide awake,--alive to all his sorrows. The doctor had come and
prescribed sedatives, and promised to come again if he did not sleep.
Ray had silently taken the medicine, and for one instant Blake had
caught sight of the face that was now dear to him as any brother's. He
threw himself on his knees and tried to draw the hands away as Ray once
again turned to the wall.

"For God's sake, Billy," he wellnigh sobbed, "don't turn from me so!
There ain't a man in all the --th could believe it