“At the beginning, sir, I want you to know who I am,” said Macdonald, producing papers. “My father, Senator Hampden Macdonald of Maine, now lives in Washington. You have heard of him. I am Alan Macdonald, late of the United States consular service. It is unlikely that you ever heard of me in that connection.”
“I never heard of you before I came here,” said the colonel, unfavorably, unfolding the credentials which the visitor had placed on his desk, and skimming them with cursory eye. Now he looked up from his reading with a sudden little jerk of the head, and stood at severe attention. “And the purpose of this visit, sir?”
“First, to prove to you that the notorious character given me by the cattlemen of this country is slanderous and unwarranted; secondly, to ask you to give me a man’s chance, as I have said, in a matter to which I shall come without loss of words. I am a gentleman, and the son of a gentleman; I do not acknowledge any moral or social superiors in this land.”
The colonel, drew himself up a notch, and seemed to grow a little at that. He looked hard at the tall, fair-haired, sober-faced man in front of him, as if searching out his points to justify the bold claim upon respectability that he had made. Macdonald 72 was dressed in almost military precision; the colonel could find no fault with that. His riding-breeches told that they had been cut for no other legs, his coat set to his shoulders with gentlemanly ease. Only his rather greasy sombrero, with its weighty leather band, and the bulging revolvers under his coat seemed out of place in the general trimness of his attire.
“Go on, sir,” the colonel said.
“I had the honor of meeting Miss Landcraft last night at the masquerade given by Miss Chadron—”
“How was that, sir? Did you have the effrontery to force yourself into a company which despises you, at the risk of your life and the decorum of the assemblage?”
“I was drawn there,” Macdonald spoke slowly, meeting the colonel’s cold eye with steady gaze, “by a hope that was miraculously realized. I did risk my life, and I almost lost it. But that is nothing unusual—I risk it every day.”
“You saw Miss Landcraft at the ball, danced with her, I suppose, talked with her,” nodded the colonel, understandingly. “Macdonald, you are a bold, a foolishly bold, man.”
“I saw Miss Landcraft, I danced with her, I talked with her, and I have come to you, sir, after a desperate ride through the night to save my life as the penalty of those few minutes of pleasure, to request the privilege of calling upon Miss Landcraft and paying my court to her. I ask you to give me a man’s chance to win her hand.”