"Only that morning when he rushed past me in the hall," she replied, not apprehending the trend of his questions.
"Captain Baynell must have had some reason to think you would marry him, or he would not have asked you. You rejected him one evening. The next morning he arrested Lieutenant Roscoe, who had been in hiding in the house,—was there some understanding between you and Captain Baynell,—had he earlier forborne this arrest in the expectation of your consent, and was the arrest made in revenge on a rival whom he fancied a successful suitor?"
She looked at the judge-advocate with a horrified amazement eloquent on her face.
"No! No! Oh," she cried in a poignant voice, "if you knew Captain Baynell, you could not, you would not, advance such implications against him,—who is the very soul of honor."
The judge-advocate was again for an instant out of countenance.
"You thought so little of him yourself as to reject his addresses," he said by way of recovering himself.
She was absorbed in the importance of the crisis. She did not realize the effect of her words until after she had uttered them.
"I did not appreciate his character then," she said simply.
Once more there was an interval of tense and significant silence. Baynell, suddenly pale to the lips, lifted startled eyes as if he sought to assure himself that he had heard aright. Then he bent his gaze on the paper in his hand.
Mrs. Gwynn, tremulous with excitement, appreciated a moment later the inadvertent and personal admission, and a burning flush sprang into her cheeks. The judge-advocate took instant advantage of her loss of poise.