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The young man recounted at some length the dinner party at Dingwall’s, his conversation with Miss Eversleigh, and his interview with Sir William, but spoke little of Miss Avondale. To his surprise, the captain listened smilingly, and only said: “That was like Billy to take a rise out of you by pretending you were suspected. That’s his way–a little rough when you don’t know him and he’s got a little grog amidships. All the same, I’d have given something to have heard him ‘running’ you, when all the while you had the biggest bulge on him, only neither of you knew it.” He laughed again, until Randolph, amazed at his levity and indifference, lost his patience.

“Do you know,” he said bluntly, “that they don’t believe you were legally married?”

But Captain Dornton only continued to laugh, until, seeing his companion’s horrified face, he became demure. “I suppose Bill didn’t, for Bill had sense enough to know that otherwise he would have to take a back seat to Bobby.”

“But did Miss Avondale know you were legally married, and that your son was the heir?” asked Randolph bluntly.

“She had no reason to suspect otherwise, although we were married secretly. She was an old friend of my wife, not particularly of mine.”

Randolph sat back amazed and horrified. Those were HER own words. Or was this man deceiving him as the others had?

But the captain, eying him curiously, but still amusedly, added: “I even thought of bringing her as one of my witnesses, until”–

“Until what?” asked Randolph quickly, as he saw the captain had hesitated.

“Until I found she wasn’t to be trusted; until I found she was too thick with Bill,” said the captain bluntly. “And now she’s gone to England with him and the boy, I suppose she’ll make him come to terms.”

“Come to terms?” echoed Randolph. “I don’t understand.” Yet he had an instinctive fear that he did.

“Well,” said the captain slowly, “suppose she might prefer the chance of being the wife of a grown-up baronet to being the governess of one who was only a minor? She’s a cute girl,” he added dryly.

“But,” said Randolph indignantly, “you have other witnesses, I hope.”

“Of course I have. I’ve got the Spanish records now from the Callao priest, and they’re put in a safe place should anything happen to me–if anything could happen to a dead man!” he added grimly. “These proofs were all I was waiting for before I made up my mind whether I should blow the whole thing, or let it slide.”

Randolph looked again with amazement at this strange man who seemed so indifferent to the claims of wealth, position, and even to revenge. It seemed inconceivable, and yet he could not help being impressed with his perfect sincerity. He was relieved, however, when Captain Dornton rose with apparent reluctance and put away his pipe.

“Now look here, my lad, I’m right glad to have overhauled you again, whatever happened or is going to happen, and there’s my hand upon it! Now, to come to business. I’m going over to England on this job, and I want you to come and help me.”

Randolph’s heart leaped. The appeal revived all his old boyish enthusiasm, with his secret loyalty to the man before him. But he suddenly remembered his past illusions, and for an instant he hesitated.

“But the bank,” he stammered, scarce knowing what to say.

The captain smiled. “I will pay you better than the bank; and at the end of four months, in whatever way this job turns out, if you still wish to return here, I will see that you are secured from any loss. Perhaps you may be able to get a leave of absence. But your real object must be kept a secret from every one. Not a word of my existence or my purpose must be blown before I am ready. You and Jack Redhill are all that know it now.”