had not
killed Samoval it was certain that he had not done so; and, finally, how
his lordship had promised to bear both cases in his mind.

"That doesn't seem very much," her ladyship complained.

"But he said that he would never allow a British officer to be made a
scapegoat, and that if things proved to be as I stated them he would
see that the worst that happened to Dick would be his dismissal from the
army. He asked me to let him know immediately if Dick were found."

More than ever was her ladyship on the very edge of confiding. A chance
word might have broken down the last barrier of her will. But that word
was not spoken, and so she was given the opportunity of first consulting
her brother.

He laughed when he heard the story.

"A trap to take me, that's all," he pronounced it. "My dear girl,
that stiff-necked martinet knows nothing of forgiveness for a military
offence. Discipline is the god at whose shrine he worships." And he
afforded her anecdotes to illustrate and confirm his assertion of Lord
Wellington's ruthlessness. "I tell you," he concluded, "it's nothing
but a trap to catch me. And if you had been fool enough to yield, and to
have blabbed of my presence to Sylvia, you would have had it proved to
you."

She was terrified and of course convinced, for she was easy of
conviction, believing always the last person to whom she spoke. She sat
down on one of the boxes that furnished that cheerless refuge of Mr.
Butler's.

"Then what's to become of Ned?" she cried. "Oh, I had hoped that we had
found a way out at last."

He raised himself on his elbow on the camp-bed they had fitted up for
him.

"Be easy now," he bade her impatiently. "They can't do anything to Ned
until they find him guilty; and how are they going to find him guilty
when he's innocent?"

"Yes; but the appearances!"

"Fiddlesticks!" he answered her--and the expression chosen was a
mere concession to her sex, and not at all what Mr. Butler intended.
"Appearances can't establish guilt. Do be sensible, and remember that
they will have to prove that he killed Samoval. And you can't prove a
thing to be what it isn't. You can't!"

"Are you sure?"

"Certain sure," he replied with emphasis.

"Do you know that I shall have to give evidence before the court?" she
announced resentfully.

It was an announcement that gave him pause. Thoughtfully he stroked his
abominable tuft of red beard. Then he dismissed the matter with a shrug
and a