"It is my painful duty." The extreme politeness with which this was accompanied was not reassuring.

Then the Colonel, taking the advice of old Horace, plunged into the middle of things.
"I was very much surprised," said Colonel Fortescue, fixing his clear gaze on Broussard, "when, yesterday evening, after dark, I saw you standing in the passage-way to the home of an enlisted man, and evidently upon familiar terms with the man's wife." "I was on my way to you, sir, just now, to explain that occurrence when I received your order," replied Broussard promptly.
"I shall be glad to have it satisfactorily explained," said the C.O.
Colonel Fortescue had the eye of command, that secure power in his glance which is possessed by all the masters of men; the look that can wring the truth out of a man's mouth even if that man be a liar, and can see through the eyes of a man into his soul.

This look of command suddenly flashed into Colonel Fortescue's face, and gazing into the clear eyes of Broussard saw honor and truth and candor there as Broussard spoke.
"The man, Lawrence, as you may know, sir, is a gentleman in origin and socially above most of the good fellows in the ranks." "And these men sometimes make trouble," interrupted the Colonel.
"He came from the same place that I do and tells me he knew my mother--God bless her--and that she was very kind to him in his boyhood.

That was before I was born.

He knows a surprising deal about my parents, both of whom died when I was a boy.