Brereton saluted, and made a movement of departure, but Washington spoke again,—
“In this report, sir, you speak of having taken Lieutenant Colonel Hennion a prisoner of war. Under the circumstances in which he was captured ’t is a strange definition to give to his footing.”
Jack’s bronzed face reddened slightly. “I so stated it, your Excellency, because I overheard the colonel tell his father that he had but stolen within our lines to do Mr. Meredith a service, and having myself read the letter that induced him to take the risk, I had every reason to believe that he spoke nothing but the truth. Yet I knew that no court-martial would take such a view, and so gave him that quality in my report, to save him from a fate he does not merit.”
“Once, sir, you were guilty of a deceit,” said Washington, sternly, “and the present conditions are enough similar to make me suspicious. Are you certain that the fact that Miss Meredith’s happiness is concerned in this officer’s fate, has had nothing to do with the quality you have given to his status?”
Despite the tan, General Brereton’s cheeks paled. “My God, your Excellency!” he burst out. “It has been one long struggle from the moment I found him my prisoner, until my report was safe in your hands not to—not to send him to the gallows, as I could by mere silence so easily have done. That I reported so promptly was due to the fact that I dared not delay, lest the temptation should become too strong.”
Washington’s eye had never left Brereton during his outbreak, and at the end he said: “You will remain at headquarters, and report to me again, sir, in half an hour, after I have duly considered the facts.”
Making no reply, Jack saluted, and passed out of the room. As he reached the doorway, Janice, who had risen, said:
“I pray you, General Brereton, to forgive me the grave wrong I have just done you in both thought and speech.”
Silently Jack bowed, and closed the door.
“I should think thee ’d be well ashamed of thyself; miss,” declared Mrs. Washington, fretfully.