declared that he had both seen and heard the fatal interview on which the whole case hinged.  And as to the exact language employed, he alone of those within earshot had lived to testify for or against the accused:  of the five soldiers who stood in that now celebrated group, three were shot to death within the hour.  He was growing nervous, irritable, haggard; he was getting to hate the mere mention of the case.  The promotion of Hayne to his own company thrilled him with an almost superstitious dismay. Were his words coming true? Was it the judgment of an offended God that his hideous pride, obstinacy, and old-time hatred of this officer were now to be revenged by daily, hourly contact with the victim of his criminal persecution?  He had grown morbidly sensitive to any remarks as to Hayne’s having “lived down” the toils in which he had been encircled.  Might he not “live down” the ensnarer?  He dreaded to see him,—­though Rayner was no coward,—­and he feared day by day to hear of his restoration to fellowship in the regiment, and yet would have given half his wealth to bring it about, could it but have been accomplished without the dreadful admission, “I was wrong.  I was utterly wrong.”  He had grown lavish in hospitality; he had become almost aggressively open-handed to his comrades, and had sought to press money upon men who in no wise needed it.  He was as eager to lend as some are to borrow, and his brother officers dubbed him “Midas” not because everything he touched would turn to gold, but because he would intrude his gold upon them at every turn.  There were some who borrowed; and these he struggled not to let repay.  He seemed to have an insane idea that if he could but get his regimental friends bound to him pecuniarily he could control their opinions and actions.  It was making him sick at heart, and it made him in secret doubly vindictive and bitter against the man he had doomed to years of suffering.  This showed out that very morning.  Mrs. Rayner had begun to talk, and he turned fiercely upon her: 

“Not a word on that subject, Kate, if you love me!—­not even the mention of his name!  I must have peace in my own house.  It is enough to have to talk of it elsewhere.”

Talk of it he had to.  The major early that morning asked him, as they were going to the matinee,—­

“Have you seen Hayne yet?”

“Not since he reported on the parade yesterday,” was the curt reply.

“Well, I suppose you will send men to help him get those quarters in habitable shape?”

“I will, of course, major, if he ask it.  I don’t propose sending men to do such work for an officer unless the request come.”

“He is entitled to that consideration, Rayner, and I think the men should be sent to him.  He is hardly likely to ask.”