He turned his back upon me, and I heard a sort of gasping sob. I made a pretence of stirring the fire, and when I had finished he was himself again.
"For twenty years," he went on, "I have lived alone with a leaden weight of misery dragging me down almost to the grave. And yet I have struggled against death for the simple reason that the thought of that disgraced man who was once my son calling himself the head of the Devereuxs, and lying down to rest within the walls of Devereux Court, has kept me hanging on to life. My son a coward! To run away from the enemy! My God, what had I done to deserve this?"
"He was not a coward," I interrupted, passionately. "Rupert lied! I know he lied! He was jealous! John Hilton has confessed to me!"
Sir Francis shook his head sorrowfully.
"The word of a servant discharged without a character is worth very little, especially when it is directed against his master," he said. "No, Hugh, my boy, if you had lived as long as I have, and had been a soldier, you would know that a court-martial never errs. It never convicts except on overwhelming evidence, and its judgments are absolute. General Luxton came to see me when he returned to England, and from him I learned the undoubted truth."
I remained silent. One might as well have talked to the Sphinx as to this coldly obstinate, dogmatic old soldier.
"I have come to make you an offer, Hugh," he went on in an altogether different tone of voice, "or rather to make you a request, and I beg you to remember that it is one which lies very near an old man's heart. I am childless and lonely, and weary of seeing none but girls' faces around me. Come and live with me as my grandson! Let that subject on which we can never agree, be buried between us! Why should you go away on a wild-goose chase? Devereux Court is your natural home. Come and live there."
I stood up and faced him. He was very much in earnest, I could see, for the long white hand which rested upon the chimney-piece was shaking, and his eyes were eagerly searching my face for its answer; but what they read there could not have been encouraging, for I never wavered for an instant.
"Sir Francis," I asked, firmly, "does a Devereux ever break his oath or neglect his duty?"
He shook his head.