"Where is she now?" he almost whispered.
"Natalia? At her home. Maria and I are staying out there with her."
Judge Houston drew his hand away slowly, his brows wrinkling into an expression of bewilderment as he noted more closely the flushed face before him. Suddenly he put out his hand and motioned Sargent to sit on the bench beside him. His voice trembled slightly when he spoke.
"Do you know what has happened?"
"Yes—she wrote me—and asked me to come and save Morgan!"
"Do you know what she meant?"
Sargent glanced up. The old man's hand was shaking as it rested on his shoulder, and in his eyes there had come quickly an expression of sharp pain.
"Do you know what she meant?" he repeated, almost harshly.
"Yes, of course—but why—"
Sargent's voice failed him. His old friend had read his hope and in his face now was speaking the suffering that he knew was coming. In the moment of silence Sargent faced the old man squarely.