Alleyne stood before them deadly pale, and with a fine dew glistening upon his forehead; but there was no look of shame or dread upon his face, which rather bore the aspect of one lately smitten by some severe mental blow from which he had not yet recovered.
He gazed straight before him without meeting the eyes of either of his visitors, as if thinking of what reply he should find to a question that stung him to the heart. Then his eyes fell, and the wrinkles that formed in his brow made him look, at least, ten years older.
Just then, as Sir John was chafing, and without thoroughly owning to it, wishing that he had let matters rest, the major said softly,—
“I thought I would come over with my brother, Mr Alleyne. I am sorry that this visit was deemed necessary.”
“Hang it all, Jem, don’t take sides with the enemy! And you a soldier, too.”
“I take no sides, John,” replied the major, quietly. “Had we not better end this interview?”
“I am waiting to hear what Mr Alleyne has to say to the father of the lady he insulted,” cried the baronet warmly; and these words acted like a spur to Alleyne, who turned upon him proudly.
“It was no insult, Sir John, to tell her that I loved her,” he said.
“But I say it was, sir, knowing as you did that she was engaged to Captain Rolph. Confound it all, sir, it was positively disgraceful. I am her father, sir, and I demand an apology—a full apology at once.”
Alleyne looked at him for a few moments in silence, and then, with his lips quivering, he spoke in a low deep voice,—