A most disdainful and impatient shrug of her shapely shoulders was Miss Beaubien’s only answer to that allusion.  The possibility of Mr. Jerrold’s being suspected of another entanglement was something she would not tolerate: 

“I know nothing of other people’s affairs.  I simply speak of my own.  Let us end this as quickly as possible, captain.  Now about Saturday night.  Mother had consented to our coming back for the german,—­she enjoys seeing me lead, it seems,—­and she decided to pay a short visit to relations at St. Croix, staying there Saturday night and over Sunday.  This would give us a chance to meet again, as he could spend the evening in St. Croix and return by late train, and I wrote and asked him.  He came; we had a long talk in the summer-house in the garden, for mother never dreamed of his being there, and unluckily he just missed the night train and did not get back until inspection.  It was impossible for him to have been at Sablon; and he can furnish other proof, but would do nothing until he had seen me.”

“Miss Beaubien, you have cleared him.  I only wish that you could clear—­every one.”

“I am in no wise concerned in that other matter to which you have alluded; neither is Mr. Jerrold.  May I say to him at once that this ends his persecution?”

The captain smiled:  “You certainly deserve to be the bearer of good tidings.  I wish he may appreciate it.”

Another moment, and she had left him and sped back to Jerrold’s door-way.  He was there to meet her, and Chester looked with grim and uncertain emotion at the radiance in her face.  He had to get back to the office and to pass them:  so, as civilly as he could, considering the weight of wrath and contempt he felt for the man, he stopped and spoke: 

“Your fair advocate has been all-powerful, Mr. Jerrold.  I congratulate you; and your arrest is at an end.  Captain Armitage will require no duty of you until we are aboard; but we’ve only half an hour.  The train is coming sharp at noon.”

“Train!  What train!  Where are you going?” she asked, a wild anxiety in her eyes, a sudden pallor on her face.

“We are ordered post-haste to Colorado, Nina, to rescue what is left of Thornton’s men.  But for you I should have been left behind.”

“But for me!—­left behind!” she cried.  “Oh, Howard, Howard! have I only—­only won you to send you into danger?  Oh, my darling!  Oh, God!  Don’t—­don’t go!  They will kill you!  It will kill me!  Oh, what have I done? what have I done?”

“Nina, hush!  My honor is with the regiment.  I must go, child.  We’ll be back in a few weeks.  Indeed, I fear ’twill all be over before we get there. Nina, don’t look so!  Don’t act so!  Think where you are!”