“Tut, tut, man, your mother could explain nothing. She could only tell the truth—that she gave you two checks for small amounts, and you put bigger amounts to them, and cashed them at the bank; in short, that her son was a forger.”
“My mother said that!”
“Yes.”
“God help her!” gasped Dick, with a gulp. He 218 put his hand to his throat, and fell forward on the table, senseless.
The colonel jumped up in alarm. Waiters rushed forward, and they revived the sick man by further applications of brandy. He recovered quickly, and food was again set before him.
He ate mechanically, and for a long time there was silence between the two men. The colonel wished himself well out of the business, and felt the brutality of using harsh words to a man in such a condition of health. Yet, he was resolute in his purpose.
Dick appeared somewhat stronger after the meal. Every now and again, he would look up at the colonel in a dazed fashion, as if unable to believe the evidence of his senses. At last, he spoke again.
“I suppose—my brain isn’t what it was. But I’m feeling better. Tell me again what my mother said—and my father.”
The colonel detailed all that he knew, displaying considerable irritation in the process. This attitude of ignorance and innocence nettled him. He wound up with a soldier-like abruptness.
“Well, are you going to live, or do you intend to remain dead?”