Mr. Kirke looked as if the form which his host's good-humor had just
taken was not quite to his mind. He returned abruptly to the subaltern
officer and the regiment in Canada. "That poor fellow's story was as
miserable a one as ever I heard," he said, looking back again absently
at the visitors' list.
"Would there be any harm in telling it, sir?" asked the landlord.
"Miserable or not, a story's a story, when you know it to be true."
Mr. Kirke hesitated. "I hardly think I should be doing right to tell
it," he said. "If this man, or any relations of his, are still alive, it
is not a story they might like strangers to know. All I can tell you
is, that my father was the salvation of that young officer under very
dreadful circumstances. They parted in Canada. My father remained with
his regiment; the young officer sold out and returned to England, and
from that moment they lost sight of each other. It would be curious if
this Vanstone here was the same man. It would be curious--"
He suddenly checked himself just as another reference to "the young
lady" was on the point of passing his lips. At the same moment the
landlord's wife came in, and Mr.
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