"They care more for the dead than the living," John said, with a laugh. It was well to laugh, for his lip quivered. No doubt this was the reason why no one had leisure to think of him. And his heart was too full of his own miseries to be capable of even a momentary compassion for the fate of Torrance—a man not very much older than himself, prosperous and rich and important—snatched in a moment from all his enjoyments. He had been deeply awed and impressed when he heard of it first; but by this time the honours paid to the dead man seemed to John an insult to his own superior claims—he who was living and suffering unjustly. To think that those who called themselves his friends should have deserted him to show a respect which they could not feel for the memory of a man whom they had none of them respected while he lived! He was no cynic, nor fond of attributing every evil to the baseness of humanity, but he could not help saying now, between his closed teeth, that it was the way of the world.
He had another visitor in the afternoon, some time after Miss Barbara took her departure, but not one of those he expected. To his great surprise, it was the white erect head of old Sir James which was the next he saw. The veteran came in with a grave and troubled countenance. He gave a shudder when he heard the key turn in the door. "I have come to see if there was—anything I could do for you?" Sir James said.
John laughed again. To laugh seemed the only possible way of expressing himself. It is permissible for a man to laugh when a woman would cry, and the meaning is much the same. This expressed indignation, incredulity, some contempt, yet was softened by a gentler sentiment, at sight of the old soldier's kind and benign but puzzled and troubled face. "I don't know what any one can do for me but take me out of this," he said, "and no one seems disposed to do that."
"John Erskine," said the old General solemnly, "the circumstances are very serious. If you had seen, as I have seen, a young, strong man laid in his grave this day, with a little toddling bairn, chief mourner." His voice broke a little, as he spoke. He waved his hand as if to put this recollection away. "And your story was not satisfactory. It did not commend itself to my mind. Have patience and hear me out. I came away from you in displeasure, and I've done nothing but turn it over and over in my thoughts ever since. It's very far from satisfactory; but I cannot find it in my heart to disbelieve you," the old man cried, with a quiver of emotion in his face. He held out his large, soft, old hand suddenly as he spoke. John, who had been winding himself up to indignant resistance, was taken entirely by surprise. He grasped that kind hand, and his composure altogether failed him.
"I am a fool," he cried, dashing the tears from his eyes, "to think that one day's confinement should break me down. God bless you, Sir James! I can't speak. If that's so, I'll make shift to bear the rest."
"Ay, my lad, that's just so. I cannot disbelieve you. You're a gentleman, John Erskine. You might do an act of violence,—any man might be left to himself; but you would not be base, and lie. I have tried to think so, but I cannot. You would never deceive an old friend."
"If I had murdered poor Torrance in cold blood, and meaning it," said John, "there is no telling, I might have lied too."
"No, no, no," said Sir James, putting out his hand—"at the worst it was never thought to be that; but you have no look of falsehood in you. Though it's a strange story, and little like the truth, I cannot disbelieve you. So now you will tell me, my poor lad, what I can do for you. We're friends again, thank God! I could not bide to be unfriends—and my old wife was at me night and day."
"If Lady Montgomery believes in me too——"
"Believes in you! she would give me no rest, I tell you—her and my own spirit. She would not hear a word. All she said was, 'Hoots, nonsense, Sir James!' I declare to you that was all. She's not what you call a clever woman, but she would not listen to a word. 'Hoots, nonsense!' that was all. We could not find it in our hearts."