Page:Maud Howe - Atlanta in the South.djvu/33

 His reputation is all that is left me to care for. Remember."

"And the man who did this thing, is he to go unharmed?"

"He is wounded."

"Ah!" with a savage gleam of triumph; "but not seriously?"

"No, not seriously."

"But I swear—"

"Silence! The fault was yours, yours, yours. Do you hear? This man's blood is on your head, and his murderer's guilt upon your soul. Now go, and never let me see your accursed face again!"

With a gesture of supreme contempt he turned and left her. To Rondelet the young man said, "Good-by! I thank you for what you have done. He was my brother, my only friend—"

Rondelet wrung his outstretched hand. "Your name. Tell me that before I go?"

"No, it is better that you should not know it. I hope that you will hear no more of this affair."

"And the name of the man who killed him?" "That I shall never tell."

The gray dawn was stealing on the sleeping world as Rondelet turned his face from the house of death. By the dim cold light he saw the double row of mighty moss-grown oaks, tongueless witnesses of this and many another such an affair of honor. The shrouded trees drooped