ackenzie," I said, "before we go any further I wish you to
believe that I am your friend as well as your Colonel. I did something
to start you upon your career, and I take a warm interest in it. To
believe you guilty of these charges will give me the keenest grief.
However unlikely your defence may sound--and you seem to fear it--I
will give it the best consideration I can. If you are innocent, you
shall not find me prejudiced because many are against you and you are
alone. Now, this coin--" I turned to the table.

The coin was gone.

I stared at the place where it had lain; then at the young man. He had
not moved. My back had been turned for less than two seconds, and I
could have sworn he had not budged from the square of carpet on
which he had first taken his stand, and on which his feet were still
planted. On the other hand, I was equally positive the incriminating
coin had lain on the table at the moment I turned my back.

"It is gone!" cried I.

"Gone?" he echoed, staring at the spot to which my finger pointed. In
the silence our glances were still crossing when my brother tapped at
the door and brought in Mr. Urquhart, Captain Murray following.

Dismissing for a moment this latest mystery, I addressed Mr. Urquhart.
"I have sent for you, sir, to request in the first place that here in
Mr. Mackenzie's presence and in colder blood you will either withdraw
or repeat and at least attempt to substantiate the charge you brought
against him."

"I adhere to it, sir, that there was cheating. To withdraw would be to
utter a lie. Does he deny it?"

I glanced at Mr. Mackenzie. "I deny that I cheated," said he sullenly.

"Further," pursued Mr. Urquhart, "I repeat what I told you, sir. He
_may_, while profiting by it have been unaware of the cheat. At the
moment I thought it impossible; but I am willing to believe--"

"_You_ are willing!" I broke in. "And pray, sir, what about me, his
Colonel, and the rest of his brother officers? Have you the coolness
to suggest--"

But the full question was never put, and in this world it will never
be answered. A bugle call, distant but clear, cut my sentence in
half. It came from the direction of the Place d'Armes. A second bugle
echoed, it from the height of the Montagne du Parc, and within a
minute its note was taken up and answered across the darkness from
quarter after quarter.

We looked at one another in silence. "Business," said my brother at
length, curtly and quietly.