"All right, just as you say; have a chair." And Conklin left the room.
The general glanced about him dubiously. Had it not been for his deep love for Elizabeth he could have wished himself anywhere else and charged with any other mission. He dropped heavily into a chair. North's arrest, and the results of that arrest as he now saw them in that cheerless atmosphere, loomed large before his mind's eye. He reflected that a trial for murder was a horrible and soul-racking experience. He devoutly and prayerfully hoped that it would not come to this in North's case.
His meditation was broken in on by the sound of echoing steps in the brick-paved passageway, and then North and Conklin entered the room. On their entrance the general quitted his chair and advanced to meet the young fellow, whose hand he took in silence. The sheriff glanced from one to the other; and understanding that there might be something intimate and personal in their relation, he said:
"I'll just step back into the building, General; when you and Mr. North have finished your talk, you can call me."
"Thank you!" said General Herbert, and Conklin withdrew, leaving the two alone.
There was an awkward pause as they faced each other. The older man was the first to speak.
"I regret this!" he said at length.
"Not more than I do!" rejoined North, with a fleeting sense of humor.
He wondered what it was that had brought Elizabeth's father there.
"What's the matter with Moxlow, anyhow?" the general demanded.