Seizing his hand the
doctor drew the old man into the room, and with gentle force placed him in
a chair. Never for a moment, however, did Mr. Houghton take his fiery eyes
from Bodine, who, now that he was in the stress of the emergency,
maintained his sad composure perfectly. Only a soldier whose nerves had
been steeled in battle could have looked upon the half-demented man so
quietly, for he presented a terrible spectacle. His white hair was
dishevelled, and his eyes had the ferocity of a lioness robbed of her
young. Foam gathered at his lips as he began again:
"Curse your ill-omened face! Such men as you are worse than a pestilence.
As a rebel was there not enough blood on your hands? He saved you, why
couldn't you do something to save him?"
"Mr. Houghton, I did try. I would have perilled even the lives of women."
"You have virtually murdered him, sir. Did you not say that if he had the
trace of a gentleman in his anatomy he would leave you and yours alone? He
would rather drown than go ashore with you."
Ella could not help hearing his loud, harsh words, and her long, wailing
cry was their echo.
At this instant Mrs. Bodine burst into the room, and her slender form
seemed to dilate until a consciousness of her presence filled the
apartment. Her face was more than stern. It wore the commanding expression
of a high-born woman roused to the full extent of an unusually strong
nature.
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