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Remorse!" "Not the kind of remorse you mean, Beefy. This is the real thing." Saul thought a moment. Then he asked, "You told me, did n't you, that he had no money with him that night?" "Not more than a dollar or so." "He spent a lot at Tung's." "The heathen probably robbed him of it!" "Yes, but where did Arsdale get it?" Donaldson started. There was something ominous in the question.
Sophia Donaldson, a lady who lived much with the family, repeatedly dreamt on that particular night that the house was surrounded by soldiers.
"No doubt.... And you're worried?" "No-o," she answered, looking sidewise at Van Vreck, her face half turned from him. "I don't think that I'm worried." "May I talk to you frankly till Don does come?" the old man asked. "Certainly." "I'll take you at your word!... Mrs. Donaldson, when your husband called on me a year ago last spring, in New York, he said nothing about you.
"Elaine," he cried, "it is I Donaldson." There was the sound of movement within, and then came the stricken plea, "Go away. Please go away." Arsdale answered, "Let me in, Elaine. Nothing shall hurt you. I'll " Donaldson turned upon him and the nurse. "Go down-stairs," he commanded. His voice made them both shudder back. "Go down-stairs," he repeated. "Do you hear! Leave her to me!"
Keep those eyes before you! Never get where those eyes can't follow you! And as you look take my word for it that even there by a strange chance you 've done your good." The man in Arsdale was at the top. For a second he faced Donaldson as one man should face another. Then he tottered and fell back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. "It's too late," he groaned, "God, it's too late!"
She was a little below medium height, rather slight, and was dressed in a dark blue pongee suit, the coat of which reached to her ankles. One might expect most anything of her, thought Donaldson, child or woman. It would no more surprise one to see her in tears over a trifle than standing firm in a crisis; bending over a wisp of embroidery, or driving a sixty horse-power automobile.
A group of dark figures stood on the pithead, waiting their turn to go below. The cage rattled up from the depths of the shaft, the men stepped in, and almost immediately disappeared down into the blackness. Arrived at the bottom, they walked along towards the different passages, chaffing and jesting with Tam Donaldson, the newly-married one.
"Leave yours to me, Annie, I have it ready for you," said Philip Donaldson, with so significant an air, that I at once suspected this suggestion to have been the result of the arrival on that very day of a box, addressed to him by a ship from Constantinople, of which he had hitherto made a great mystery.
Meantime General Thomas had organized the employees of the Quartermaster's Department into a corps, commanded by the chief-quartermaster, General J. Z. Donaldson, and placed them in the fortifications of Nashville, under the general direction of Major-General Z. B. Tower, now of the United States Engineers.
"It was a mistake on their part," answered Donaldson. "They did n't know." "And so you shouldered it," she whispered. "I knew it would come out all right," he faltered. "A reporter rang me up just now," ran on Arsdale. "He told me the whole thing. The papers are full of it. They they say you 're great, Donaldson, but they don't know how great!" "If you would n't talk about it," pleaded Donaldson.
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