"
But Ashton-Kirk was paying little attention to the things that
appalled Pendleton.
"Look," said he.
He indicated the walls. Here and there the plaster was broken as
though some fastened object had been violently torn away. At one place
an empty picture frame, its glass smashed, hung askew from a hook. As
Pendleton caught sight of other empty frames littered about the room,
the glass of each broken, their pictures torn out, he exclaimed in
astonishment:
"Hello! Someone has torn them down and smashed them. What an
extraordinary thing to do!"
The pictures, mostly engravings, but with here and there a painting,
were strewn about. Ashton-Kirk carefully gathered them up and spread
them upon the table. They were by various hands, but unquestionably
represented the same person--a handsome, resolute looking man in the
uniform of an officer in the army of Washington.
"General Anthony Wayne," said Ashton-Kirk, softly.
There was something in the tone that made Pendleton look at him
swiftly. The splendid head was bent over the portraits; eagerness
blazed in the dark eyes; the keen face was rigid with interest.
"Some drunken freak, do you think?" asked Pendleton, more to hear his
friend's view than anything else.
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