“However I do it, you’ll stick by her judgment, Henry?”

The perspiration had started on Lord Nick’s forehead again.  Doubt swayed him, but pride forced him on.

“I’ll come again tonight,” he said gloomily.  “I’ll meet you in—­Milligan’s?”

“In Milligan’s, then.”

Lord Nick, without a word of farewell, stamped across the hut and out.

As for Donnegan, he stepped backward, his legs buckled beneath him, and when big George entered, with a scared face, he found the little man half sitting on the bunk, half lying against the wall with the face and the staring eyes of a dead man.

34

It was a long time before Donnegan left the hut, and when he came out the crowd which had gathered to watch the fight, or at least to mark the reports of the guns when those two terrible warriors met, was scattered.  There remained before Donnegan only the colonel in his invalid’s chair.  Even from the distance one could see that his expression was changed, and when the little red-headed man came near the colonel looked up to him with something akin to humility.

“Donnegan,” he said, stopping the other as Donnegan headed for the door of the hut, “Donnegan, don’t go in there just now.”

Donnegan turned and came slowly toward him.

“The reason,” said the colonel, “is that you probably won’t receive a very cheery reception.  Unfortunate—­very unfortunate.  Lou has turned wrong-headed for the first time in her life and she won’t listen to reason.”

He chuckled softly.

“I never dreamed there was so much of my metal in her.  Blood will tell, my boy; blood will tell.  And when you finally get her you’ll find that she’s worth waiting for.”

“Let me tell you a secret,” said Donnegan dryly.  “I am no longer waiting for her!”

“Ah?” smiled the colonel.  “Of course not.  This bringing of Landis to her—­it was all pure self-sacrifice.  It was not an attempt to soften her heart.  It was not a cunning maneuver.  Tush!  Of course not!”

“I am about to make a profound remark,” said Donnegan carelessly.

“By all means.”

“You read the minds of other people through a colored glass, colonel.  You see yourself everywhere.”

“In other words I put my own motives into the actions and behind the actions of people?  Perhaps.  I am full of weaknesses.  Very full.  In the meantime let me tell you one important thing—­if you have not made the heart of Lou tender toward you, you have at least frightened her.”

The jaw on Donnegan set.

“Excellent!” he said huskily.

“Perhaps better than you think; and to keep you abreast with the times, you must know another thing.  Lou has a silly idea that you are a lost soul, Donnegan, but she attributes your fall entirely to my weakness.  Nothing can convince her that you did not intend to kill Landis; nothing can convince her that you did not act on my inspiration.  I have tried arguing.  Bah! she overwhelmed me with her scorn.  You are a villain, says Lou, and I have made you one.  And for the first time in my memory of her, her eyes fill with tears.”