“He dropped down on his knees beside him, and caught him by the hand, and cried out, 'George, my own dear fellow,—George, speak to me;' but George never spoke another word.”
“And Davis,—Captain Davis,—what did he do?”
“He shook hands with Jones, and said something in French that made him laugh; and then going over to where the body lay, he said, 'Colonel Humphrey,' says he, 'you 're a witness that all was fair and honorable, and that if this unhappy affair ever comes to be—' and then the Colonel moved his hand for him to be off, and not speak to him. And so the Captain took his advice, and got into the saddle; but I heard him mutter something about 'teaching the Colonel better manners next time they met.”
“And then he rode away?”
“Yes; he turned into the wood, at a walking pace, for he was lighting his cigar. I saw no more of him, after that, for they called me to help them with the body, and it was all we could do, four of us, to carry him to the road where the carriage was standing.”
“Did you ever hear them mention my name amongst them?” asked Beecher, tremblingly.
“No, sir; nobody spoke of you but my master, when he handed me the note.”
“What a sad business it has all been!” exclaimed Beecher, half aloud.