He searched for the traitor in his mind and suddenly recognized him—MacFarlane. The traitor was his friend—his friend—whose honour he had protected under a temptation which might well have been irresistible.
MacFarlane was the only man who knew of his first relations with Moon; from the men who had witnessed her death, he had learned the rest. MacFarlane had twisted facts into a hideous, lying brand and placed that brand in the hands of his worst enemy.
Hector did not have far to seek for his motive.
The treachery of a trusted friend is the bitterest treachery any man can face.
Hector had to face it.
And he could not even clear himself in his friend's eyes, for that would show up Mrs. MacFarlane in her true colours and break MacFarlane's heart.
He felt himself suddenly deserted, standing up alone under a rain of blows, blows from behind as well as from in front—blows from behind—crushing——
And set his teeth to endure.
V
"Mac," said Hector, "come over to my quarters and smoke a pipe. I want a word with you."