Next morning, about seven o’clock, as Ravenel was walking through the park to the post-office with his parcel of circulars, he came face to face with Colonel Duquesne. The colonel, instead of passing him with a stiff nod, halted before him, and said:
“Good morning, Captain Ravenel.”
Ravenel was startled, but he replied, saluting respectfully:
“Good morning, sir.”
“There is, I am afraid, some trouble ahead of you with regard to Lieutenant Creci,” said the colonel, speaking very deliberately. “I wish to say now, from long knowledge of the lady in the case, that I can not believe she committed the smallest impropriety, nor do I think that Creci’s word that she did so would carry the slightest conviction to any person in Bienville; and whatever comes of it, the lady’s name must be kept out of the affair absolutely.”
Ravenel could have fallen upon his knees with gratitude when Colonel Duquesne said this. The idea that Sophie’s name should be dragged into a public scandal was heart-breaking to him. The tears came into his eyes, and he was about to extend his hand impulsively to Colonel Duquesne, but changed his mind, and crossed his arms.
He bowed, however, profoundly, and said:
“I can not express to you, sir, how much I thank you for what you have said. It is well-deserved by that lady, who is the most modest, the most retiring, the purest-minded—”
Ravenel stopped with a lump in his throat. The tears by that time had dropped upon his dark, sunburned face. He brushed them away, but Colonel Duquesne thought no less of him for those tears.