CHAPTER X.
As Bathurst brought his story to its conclusion the Doctor rose and placed his hand kindly on his shoulder.
"I certainly should not think of blaming you, Bathurst.

What you tell me is indeed a terrible misfortune, situated as we may be soon, though I trust and believe that all this talk about the Sepoys is moonshine.
I own that I am surprised at your story, for I should have said from my knowledge of you that though, as I could perceive, of a nervous temperament, you were likely to be cool and collected in danger.

But certainly your failing is no fault of your own." "That is but a small consolation to me, Doctor.

Men do not ask why and wherefore--they simply point the finger of scorn at a coward.

The misfortune is that I am here.