The words were nothing; but as he fixed on me that keen eye, which, he boasts can, without need of judge or jury detect a man's guilt or innocence, I felt convinced that with him too my good name was gone. It was no longer a battle with mere side-winds of slander—the storm had begun.
I might have sunk like a coward, if there were only myself to be crushed under it. As it was, I looked the governor in the face.
“Have you any special motive for this suggestion?”
“I have stated it.”
“Then allow me to state, that whatever my opinions may be, so long as my services are useful here, I have not the slightest wish or intention of resigning.”
He bowed, and we parted.
The boy was flogged. I said to him, “Bear it; better confess,”—as he had done—“confess and be punished now. It will then be over.” And I hope, by the grateful look of the poor young wretch, that with the pain, the punishment was over; that my pity helped him to endure it, so that it did not harden him, but, with a little help, he may become an honest lad yet.
When I left him in his cell, I rather envied him.
It now became necessary to look to my own affairs, and discover if possible, all that report alleged against me—false or true—as well as the originator of these statements. Him I at last by the merest chance discovered.
My little lady, with her quick, warm feelings, must learn to forgive, as I have long ago forgiven. It was Mr. Francis Charteris.