The argument was deemed conclusive. Even, the bereaved father—and cousin, who appeared equally the victim of a voiceless grief—consented to shape their course according to the counsels of the more prudent majority, backed by the authority of the major himself.
It was decided that the searchers should proceed in a body.
In what direction? This still remained the subject of discussion.
The thoughtful captain of infantry now became a conspicuous figure, by suggesting that some inquiry should be made, as to what direction had been last taken by the man who was supposed to be murdered. Who last saw Henry Poindexter?
His father and cousin were first appealed to.
The former had last seen his son at the supper table; and supposed him to have gone thence to his bed.
The answer of Calhoun was less direct, and, perhaps, less satisfactory. He had conversed with his cousin at a later hour, and had bidden him good night, under the impression that he was retiring to his room.
Why was Calhoun concealing what had really occurred? Why did he refrain from giving a narration of that garden scene to which he had been witness?
Was it, that he feared humiliation by disclosing the part he had himself played?
Whatever was the reason, the truth was shunned; and an answer given, the sincerity of which was suspected by more than one who listened to it.