"That wouldn't do at all," insisted Vance. "If the Major can enlighten us on any point, I think Sergeant Heath should be present to hear him."
"I don't need any enlightenment," cut in Heath.
Vance regarded him with admiring surprise.
"What a wonderful man! Even Goethe cried for mehr Licht; and here are you in a state of luminous saturation! . . . Astonishin'!"
"See here, Vance," said Markham: "why try to complicate the matter? It strikes me as a waste of time, besides being an imposition, to ask the Major here to discuss Leacock's confession. We don't need his evidence now, anyway."
Despite his gruffness there was a hint of reconsideration in his voice; for though his instinct had been to dismiss the request out of hand, the experiences of the past few days had taught him that Vance's suggestions were not made without an object.
Vance, sensing the other's hesitancy, said:
"My request is based on something more than an idle desire to gaze upon the Major's rubicund features at this moment. I'm telling you, with all the meagre earnestness I possess, that his presence here now would be most helpful."
Markham deliberated, and argued the point at some length. But Vance was so persistent that in the end he was convinced of the advisability of complying.
Heath was patently disgusted, but he sat down quietly, and sought solace in a cigar.
Major Benson arrived with astonishing promptness, and when Markham handed him the confession, he made little attempt to conceal his eagerness.
