im?"

"Yes," faintly, turning away her head.

"Do you really love him, or are you making a fool of him as you did of
me?"

"But I--love you, too," she said demurely, slowly dropping her head so
that her face was half hidden from his intent gaze.

"How can you love both of us?" he exclaimed, angered beyond endurance
by her apparent coquetry.

"It's--it's--different," she answered demurely.

"If Lacy were here, I suppose he would understand, but women such as
you are beyond me."

"It seems so."

"But why prolong this interview longer, Miss Glen? Your secret is safe
with me. Probably you came here to learn that. I will not allow you to
betray it, either;"--how inconsistent he was, she thought;--"you know
that I love you, and I know that you do not love me, that your heart is
with that man on the ship. Won't you please leave me to myself? I
really shall need all my self-command, my strength, to face the
court-martial, and you--you--unman me. I thank you for coming to see
me, but--forgive my apparent discourtesy--I would rather be alone.
Good-by."

"Wait," she said. "That man on the _Wabash_--"

"By heaven!" he interrupted savagely--he was a man of somewhat
elemental passions when he was aroused, and he was thoroughly aroused
then--"have you no mercy, no pity? This is too much! I don't want to
hear a word about him. Whoever he is I--"

"Stop, sir!" cried the girl, impressively, "or you will say something
for which you will be sorry."

"Sorry! I should like to have him within reach of my hand!" he said
grimly, extending his arm as he spoke, and his expression was not
pleasant to see. "I'd--"

"I am sure," she went on hurriedly, cutting him off, "you would not do
a thing to him if he stood right here."

"Would I not? And pray, why not?" he asked her bitterly.

"Because--"

She stopped, reluctant to disclose her secret. Once she did so her
power was gone.

"Because--" she said again.

"Tell me in heaven's name! You torture me!"

"Because he--is--my--"

Again she stopped, and again his anxiety got the better of him. He
caught her hands in his own and held them with a grasp that hurt her.

"My God, will you cease this cruelty? He is not your--you are not
really married to him, are you?"

"Hardly. Let go of my hands," she answered, striving to draw away: yet
for a fairly strong young woman she exhibited an astonishing feebleness
in her endeavor.

"Who is he?" with imperious insistence.

"My fathe