Marshall drew himself up, and touched his hat.
"I ought to be going, sir," he said, almost in his usual ordered tones. "Mr. Tempest dines early to-night."
Colonel Tempest nodded. He had forgotten for the moment how to speak.
"And it's all right, sir, about—about me," rather anxiously.
Colonel Tempest perceived that Marshall had not realized the possible hold he might obtain over him by the mere fact of his knowledge of this last revelation. He had been obtuse before. He was obtuse now.
"As long as you are silent and leave at once," said Colonel Tempest, commanding his tongue to articulate, "I will be silent too. Not a moment longer."
Marshall touched his hat again, and went.
Colonel Tempest walked unsteadily to a bench under a twisted yew, a little way from the path, and sat down heavily upon it.
How cold it was, how bitterly cold! He shivered, and drew his hand across his damp forehead. The tinkling of voices reached him at intervals. Foolish birds were making choruses of small jokes in the branches above his head. Some one laughed at a little distance.
He alone was wretched beyond endurance. Perhaps he did not know what endurance meant. Panic shook him like a leaf.