Yet I couldn't keep quite away. I began to wander at night in front of the tall dark house, and then took to going round to the garden at the back, where I soon found I could climb the wall and watch the light in a window up above which somehow I knew must be Jenny's. I used to hide in a great rhododendron bush and fix my eyes on that light, telling myself that to-morrow I would pack up my dunnage and make tracks for the _Dolphin_, and search the coast as I had never searched it before till I had unravelled the whole tangled mystery. I thought I might even lie in wait for my enemy there, for Worthing had said the fellow would be sure to turn up sooner or later as evidently he was in search of the treasure. But though I kept telling myself I would go the next day, I was always back at my post watching the light in Jenny's window. And the summer was half spent. But one night I was rewarded for my vigil. For Jenny pulled aside her blind, and I heard her brokenly sighing my name. It wasn't till then that I realized that she must be in a torment of distress at my sudden desertion of her. I had been so engrossed with my own troubles that I hadn't thought of hers. I would have broken cover and called up to her, but at that moment I heard a door open, and a dark figure slipped noiselessly out of the house. A voice was saying in the suave kind tones I knew so well, "Courage, my master. Did I not hear you call me, and I at the end of the world? Yes, and I will come to you again, be assured." The Captain replied brokenly out of the shadows, "Oh, Abou, Abou!" So Abou was back again. His wonderful instinct had told him his master was in trouble and needed him. I wondered if he had been back long. Perhaps it was his coming that had set the Captain's mind at rest, whereas I had thought it was the news of the Naples murder which I had assumed he must have heard in some way. The thought was but a flash in my mind, for the Captain went on, "You will find him, Abou, and bring him back. Tell him, tell him I will be his father. Tell him.... But what can I say? Boys don't care for that sort of thing. But I love the bairn, Abou, and I want him back." "You shall have him, my master," said Abou, and glided away, while I crouched motionless not daring to breathe. Then the Captain came out into the garden and strolled up and down a turn or two muttering my name. I knew I had but to come from my hiding to be welcomed back into that house with open arms. Yet I knew I mustn't go. It would be under false pretences. First I must accomplish my task.