At that moment, the door was opened, and the officer's head was thrust in.
'I must have ten minutes more,' said Rust.
'I must, I _will_,' exclaimed Rust, sternly.
He tossed him a dollar, which the man caught in his hand with professional dexterity; and then, with a grin, said: 'Well, if you're so very anxious, of course you must be accommodated;' and disappearing, shut the door.
'You said that you were guilty,' resumed Rust, turning to his daughter. 'I know it. There's but one more so. You know to whom I allude. What is his name?'
The girl grew very pale, and hung down her head in silence.
'Who is he?' again demanded her father, seizing her arm with a strong grasp.
'Be it so,' said Rust flinging her hand from him. 'Perhaps silence is best. Now, one other question. _Where_ is he?'
She shook her head, and replied in a scarcely audible tone that she did not know.
'On the same day,' answered the girl, in a low tone.
'And he has not kept that promise. The first of a series of black-hearted lies!' exclaimed Rust, bitterly, speaking more to himself than to her. 'In these cases, lies come first, and the truth last.' He again addressed her: 'Does he speak of marriage? and do _you_ urge it upon him?'
'I _do_, indeed I _do_!' replied the girl, apparently anxious to hit upon something to conciliate the stern mood of her parent. 'Often and often, I beg him to do it, and remind him of his promise.'
'And what is his answer?' demanded Rust, with a half-mocking smile.
'He says that he cannot marry me just now, but that he will soon. He wishes to obtain the consent of his father, who is very ill, and cannot be spoken to about it; but that he will soon be better, and that then it will all be settled.'
'How long has he been making these excuses?'
'A very long time--a very long time,' said the girl, sadly: 'A month and more.'
His daughter was silent; for she began to see the drift of this cold examination, and it sent a chill to her heart.
Rust was satisfied; and he said in a half-musing tone: 'The same stale, hackneyed story. She is on her way to where the first misstep always leads. Already he is wearied, and wants but an excuse to fling her off; and I--I--_I_--her avenger,' exclaimed he with a burst of fierce impatience, '_I_ am shackled; a prisoner, and can do nothing!'