“Harry Calvert?” This letter, delivered in some mysterious manner to the bankers at Calcutta, was duly forwarded, and in time reached the hands of Alfred Drayton, who confided its contents to a few “friends” of Calvert’s--men who felt neither astonished nor shocked at the intelligence--shifty fellows, with costly tastes, who would live on society somehow, reputably, if they could--dishonourably if they must; and who all agreed that “Old Calvert,” as they called him--he was younger than most of them--had struck out a very clever line, and a far more remunerative one than “rooking young Griffins at billiards”--such being, in their estimation, the one other alternative which fete had to offer him. This was all the publicity, however, Drayton gave to his friend’s achievements. Somehow or other, paragraphs did appear, not naming Calvert, but intimating that an officer, who had formerly served her Majesty, had been seen in the ranks of the insurgents of Upper Bengal. Yet Calvert was not suspected, and he dropped out of people’s minds as thoroughly as if he had dropped out of life. To this oblivion, for a while, we must leave him; for even if we had in our hands, which we have not, any records of his campaigning life, we might scruple to occupy our readers with details which have no direct bearing upon our story. That Loyd never heard of him is clear enough. The name of Calvert never occurred in any letter from his hand. It was one no more to be spoken of by Florence or himself. One letter from him, however, mentioned an incident which, to a suspicious mind, might have opened a strange vein of speculation, though it is right to add that neither the writer nor the reader ever hit upon a clue to the mystery indicated. It was during his second year of absence that he was sent to Mulnath, from which he writes: