"What devil's work is this?" demanded Blake, glaring intuitively at Buxton.
"These people resisted my guards, and had to take the consequences," said Buxton, with surly—yet shaken—dignity.
"What were the guards doing here? What, in God's name, are you doing here?" demanded Blake, forgetful of all consideration of rank and command in the face of such evident catastrophe.
"I ordered them here,—to enter and search."
A pause.
"Search what?—what for?"
"For—a woman I had reason to believe he had brought out here from town."
"What? You infernal idiot! Why, she's his own sister, and this gentleman's wife!"
The silence, broken only by the hard breathing of some of the excited men and the moaning cry of the woman, was for a moment intense.
"Isn't this Mr. Hurley?" asked Blake, suddenly, as though to make sure, and turning one instant from his furious glare at his superior officer. The stranger, still held, though no longer struggling, replied between his set teeth,—