Miriam left the room hastily, leaving her husband still nursing the small garment in the crook of his arm.
"A father of a child!" he mused. "It's good to be a father—a good father." Suddenly he seated himself at the table and buried his face in his arms. For some time he remained thus; but when he raised his head again there were tears in his eyes.
"A little child for me—and I shot Hargraves," he moaned.
Just then Miriam came back into the room. At a glance she realised what was going on in his mind; and going over to him, placed her hand affectionately on his shoulder and with great tenderness said:—
"Don't think any more about that, Laurie, it's past and gone. You're a new man, don't you see?"
"I haven't thought of it for five years!" cried Challoner, fiercely. "I haven't dared to think of it—I haven't had time to think of it...." He paused a moment to pull himself together, and then suddenly went on: "But now I have got to think about it, if I'm going to be a father." He sighed reminiscently. "Poor Hargraves, I can see him now, Miriam, as he put up his arm...."
"Don't, Laurie!" she pleaded. "Don't! The forbidden subject—forget it, dear!"
"I can't forget it!" he returned. "It's all before me now." He glared into space, as a man might who witnessed before his very eyes some conflict. "I can see it now, just as it happened——"
He stopped suddenly, fiercely, caught her roughly by the arm, and cried in a loud voice:—
"Miriam, Miriam, thank Heaven I have thought about it! Listen, dear—I can see it now—just as it happened." He stopped and looked down at her. "Can you stand it, dear?"