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Updated: May 8, 2025
"Brenton is pure gold," Reed said quietly. "I have known him for many years." But his companion shook his head. "Gold, if you will; but not the purest. There is a dash of alloy we may as well admit, at the start. Else, it will only muddle things, later on. Brenton is good stuff, but a little weak. There's something in him that always will make him stumble and fall down just short of his ideals."
It was proved conclusively that some of his ancestors had died in a lunatic asylum, and one was stated to have committed suicide. The defence produced certain books from Mr. Brenton's library, among them Forbes Winslow's volume on "The Mind and the Brain," to show that Brenton had studied the subject of suicide. The judge's charge was very colourless.
Now, I propose that we leave him severely alone. Let him find out his mistake. He will find it out in some way or other, and then he will be in a condition of mind to turn to the case of Jane Morton." "But don't you see," argued Brenton, "that all the time spent on his present investigation is so much time lost?
Then she spoke, and her accent conveyed the same impression as concerned the conversation. "Oh, no; Catia is just a little nickname. That is all. My name is really Kathryn." And then, for an instant and to her lasting shame, Olive Keltridge's glance sought that of Brenton. Before the hurt and abased look in his deep gray eyes, her own eyes dropped, ashamed and pitiful.
"What I want to know is this: what in the world is going to become of us fellows who go on preaching one thing, while we believe another?" Brenton tossed aside his cigar, thrust his fists into his pockets and rose to pace the floor. "Don't joke, doctor," he said impatiently. "For once, I'm past it, past its doing me any good, I mean.
"Write to the Bishop, dear, and tell him you will take Saint Peter's, when he offers it," she begged him. Brenton lifted his head to stare at her, aghast. "Catia, I can't," he told her sternly. Nevertheless, in the end of things, he did. His later self-reckonings were all the more severe on that account.
I thought I was speaking to a reasonable man who knew what he was talking about." "Haven't I told you time and again," answered Brenton, indignantly, "that it was a mistake? You asked me if I poisoned myself. I answered you that I did not. Your question related to suicide. I did not commit suicide. I was the victim of a druggist's mistake.
Afterwards, Ramsdell dismissed and sent off on an errand, Whittenden smoked, and Opdyke lay and watched him in a contented reverie too deep for words. As he had said to Brenton, once on a time, it was a relief to get even a bad matter out and over. Later, he was quite well aware, he would take up the subject with his friend once more; but the week was nearly all before them.
Sir James being ordered to fit for the same service in which he had lately been so successfully employed, Captain Jahleel Brenton, who had been recommended by Earl St. Vincent, and who had been a volunteer during the last cruise, was appointed to the Cæsar as his captain.
By the way, I either don't know your name or I have forgotten it." "William Brenton," answered the other. "Mr. Speed, I want to introduce you to Mr. Brenton." "Ah," said Speed, cordially, "a new-comer. One of your victims, Ferris?" "Say one of his pupils, rather," answered Brenton. "Well, it is pretty much the same thing," said Speed.
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