"I had men working—to try and find you. I've their reports at home—you shall see them. I want you to know that I did all I could. We got the name of the nurse."
"Mrs. Nixon?"
"I think—no," he said confusedly. "I can't remember—she disappeared——"
"Yes, sir. She married again and went to Texas. She took me with her."
Bent's eyes searched Jeff's piteously. "That was it," he whispered, "that was it. That's my excuse—I tried, you know I tried, don't you? It has been my burden for years—more even lately—than when I was younger—the wrong I had done you. Say that you understand—won't you—my—my—son?"
The tears had come into Jeff's eyes, welled forth like the gush of water in a dry fountain, and fell upon the old wrinkled fingers.
"I do, sir—I do."
The General's hand left the coverlid and rested for a moment on Jeff's shoulder.
"I hoped you would. I've always hoped you'd forgive me when you knew."
Jeff straightened and brushed his eyes. "There's nothing to forgive. I—I only want you to get well—you will, sir. They say you're better."