"The moment he comes in, see that he gets my card."
Again there was delay. General Herbert, consumed by impatience, crossed and recrossed the room. Elizabeth stood by the window, one hand parting the heavy curtains. It was already late afternoon. The day had been wasted, and the hours that remained to them were perilously few. But more than the thought of North's death, the death itself filled her mind with unspeakable imaginings. The power to control her thoughts was lost, and her terrors took her where they would, until North's very death struggles became a blinding horror. Somewhere in the silent house, a door opened and closed.
"At last!" said the general, under his breath.
But it was only the governor's secretary who entered the room. He halted in the doorway and glanced from father to daughter. There was no mistaking the look on his face.
"How much longer are we to be kept in doubt?" asked General Herbert, in a voice that indicated both his dread and his sense of insult.
"The governor deeply regrets that there should have been this delay—" began the secretary.
"He is ready to see us now?" General Herbert interrupted.
"I regret—"
"What do you regret? Do you mean to tell me that he will not see us?" demanded the general.
"The governor has left town."