“Never! You mustn’t, either!”
“But this will break the old man’s heart—the biggest, most loving heart in the world! This will kill him!”
“Even that would be less cruel than to have Hal stay, and have him torture the old captain.”
“And there’s nothing you can do? Nothing you’ll let me do?”
“There’s nothing any one can do now, but God. And God holds aloof, these days.”
For a minute Laura peered up at him, letting the full import of his words sink into her dazed brain. Then, sensing the tragic inevitability of what must be, she turned, ran down the steps and along the rain-swept path.
He dared not call after her, to bid her take no desperate measures, for fear of waking the captain—the captain, at that very moment shivering inside the window, transfixed by spikes of suffering that nailed him to his cross of Calvary. In silence he watched her, storm-driven like a wraith, grow dim through the rain till she vanished from his sight.
Alone, Dr. Filhiol sank heavily into a wet chair. There he remained, thinking deep and terrible things that wring the heart of man.
And the captain, what of him?