“He must be, Steve. How could it be otherwise? But he don't show it to look at him. He's going round with his head up just as if nothing had happened, but take my word for it he feels it through and through. I know Jake Benson. What he says or shows, is the smallest part of what he feels. He's cut to the quick; and can you wonder at it?”
“Of course,” said Stephen gently.
The old man placed a tremulous hand on his arm.
“But you feel for him, Steve; you ain't given yourself, body and soul, to the traitors.”
“No, no; I am more sorry than I can say that I should seem to have any part in this.”
“Yet this is why you left him, Steve!” said Gibbs reproachfully.
“He sent me away, general; at least, he made it so I could not stay.”
“He wants to see you. He wants you to come to the house tonight. He'd like it if you'd dine with us.”
But Stephen hesitated.
“Come, you can't deny him that, Steve,” Gibbs insisted. “You won't. Let me go back and tell him you'll be there. Just remember the friend he's been to you.”