"I picked him out in a moment, sir," said the ex-mate. "Yes, the very moment I set eyes on him I knew him again. He's stouter and older looking, of course, and he's close-shaved now, and wears no earrings; but, for all that, he's the same man." "I think you told me the other day," said Byrne, "that you had nothing very particular to do just now?" "Yes, sir, I did. I only got back from China a few weeks since, and, as I am getting on in life, it's just a toss up with me whether I shall go to sea again or settle down ashore for the rest of my days." "Then you will have no objection to enter my service for a little while?" "None whatever, sir." "On Wednesday morning next I shall want you to go down from Euston Station to Marhyddoc, and there make certain inquiries for me." "Nothing could please me better, sir. I've had plenty of travelling by water: a little travelling by land will make a pleasant change." "Then meet me here on Tuesday evening at seven, and I will give you your instructions." Before proceeding further, Byrne thought that he had better put Ambrose Murray in possession of what he had done since their last meeting, and seek his sanction to the steps he proposed taking next. Byrne accordingly sought Murray out at his lodgings, and the two men had a long consultation. Gerald, unfortunately, was at Stammars just then, and could not be present. "Everything now hinges upon the result of Morrell's inquiries at Marhyddoc," said Byrne. "Should the report he will bring back with him prove a favourable one, then we may consider ourselves fortunate indeed--then we may take it that the best or worst will soon be known to us. But should the result of his inquiries prove unfavourable to our hopes, then all that we have done--all my toiling and scheming, all the expense you have been put to--will have been next to useless. Van Duren's guilt as the murderer of Paul Stilling may have been morally proved to the satisfaction of you and me and one or two others, but that would be of no avail whatever in proving your innocence and in bringing home the crime to him. Unless we can wrest from the sea the terrible secret which it has hidden so carefully all these years, the guilt of Van Duren will remain unproved for ever. Beyond the point now reached by us it is impossible to advance a single step till we shall have made that secret our own." "The sea has only been keeping its secret all these years that it might yield it up when the time should be ripe for me to ask for it. That time has now come. I ask for it, and I shall have it. Have no fear, my good friend, no fear whatever. Guided by an unseen hand, we have threaded a labyrinth from which at first there seemed no possible outlet; and now that we have reached the gate, and are bidden to look for the key, can you doubt that it is there for the searching--can you doubt that we shall find it?"