“I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. But in a little while you will awake; and if there is a spark of manhood in you, you will be horrified at this day's work. ‘He had run away with a Frenchwoman, you see, but Everett Charvill—I refer to the general—took care to conceal the matter. It had been a very long time. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand.
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