“But some other time, Wilfred,” urged his mother.
“No, no; immediately,” but as no one made the slightest effort toward complying with his demand, “Very well,” he continued, moving slowly toward the door, and by a determined effort keeping his feet. “If you won’t send her to me, I will——”
“There, there,” said Mrs. Varney, interposing swiftly; “if you must, you must. Since you insist, I will call her.”
“I do insist.”
“Stay with him, dear,” said Mrs. Varney to Caroline, “and I will go and call her.”
“No,” said Wilfred, “I want to see her alone.”
Wondering much at this move of her boy-lover, but somehow feeling that Wilfred represented his father and the law, Caroline, after one long look at his pale but composed face, turned and followed Mrs. Varney out of the room.
CHAPTER XVIII
CAPTAIN THORNE JUSTIFIES HIMSELF
After the two women had left him, Wilfred stood motionless for a moment, and then sat wearily down to rest. Scarcely had he done so when he heard shouts far outside in the street, the heavy trampling of feet, cries, directions, orders. He rose and walked over to the window. The cries were growing louder and the footsteps more distinct. Men were approaching the house rapidly, he could tell that they were running. What could they be? What was toward? A suspicion flashed into his mind. It had hardly found lodgment there when Thorne sprang upon the porch, leaped across it, and burst through the other front window into the long room. A pedestal with a bust of Washington on it was standing between the windows. As Thorne sprang back from the window, he knocked against it. It fell to the floor with a tremendous crash.
He stood staring a moment toward the window, listening while the noise of the running feet died away in the distance. It seemed that he had distanced his pursuers or eluded them for the time being. It could only be for a moment, however; he had other things to think of. Well, that moment would be enough; it was all he required. He turned to go down the room, only to find himself confronted by the boy.