"Is it fair to them?"
The Marquis, at a loss, bit his lip, hung his head——
"I can't see where they come into this thing, anyway, sir," he said at last. "I'm—I'm on my own."
"They do come into it, though, boy. But leave them aside for a moment—you're a gentleman. You should know better. You disgrace the stock you've sprung from, Humphries, when you go on like this. If only for that reason, I want to help you to—to pull up, before it's too late."
Again the Marquis could not believe his ears. Was this the man who had 'told him off' so thoroughly not long ago?— The terrible 'Spirit-of-Iron,' whose reputation as a handler of delinquents was enough to frighten the hardest sinner into repentance?
"You're wasting time with me, sir," said the Marquis, suddenly bold. In his voice was defiance but defiance strongly blended with despair. "I don't want to be reformed. Anyway,—I'm not worth it."
"Yes, you are"—still the even, passionless tone—"Because you've good blood in you, Humphries, and also, of course, because you're a notorious scapegrace, I mean to help you out. I decided to help you as soon as I'd sized you up. Then—certain things occurred which inclined me towards severity. You'd have got it, too, by Heaven—don't mistake me—but something again intervened for you. I said just now your people came into this thing. They do come into it, Humphries!"
The Marquis threw up his head, meeting Hector's eyes with incredulity and frank disbelief. But the C.O. did not seem to see it. Truth was in his face.
"My—people, sir?" the Marquis faltered and again the colour left his face. "I—I don't—I don't think—I understand."
"Listen to this, then, and realize how mistaken you have been and what your conduct really means. This letter was sent me some days ago by the Commissioner, to whom it was addressed. It saved you when I was going to put you down. It mightn't have been necessary to read it at all, had you behaved yourself. But now, I'm afraid it's almost the only thing to have effect."