With a sterner air even than he had at first assumed, General Luxton turned towards the unfortunate young man who stood before him. He was standing as though turned to stone, with wide-open eyes, staring at the man who had just spoken, attitude and expression alike bespeaking an overpowering bewilderment. "You are at liberty to ask the witness any questions," the General said, shortly. For a moment there was a dead silence. Then the words came pouring out from his quivering lips like a mountain torrent. "Rupert, what have you said? What does this mean? Good God, are you trying to ruin me? Did I not run to your assistance because you were beset by those three blackguards? Didn't I kill two of them and save your life? You can't have forgotten it! Why are you lying? Hilton saw it all, and so did Fenwick. Where are they? My God, this is horrible!" The deep flush had gone from his cheeks, and left him pale as death. Great beads of perspiration stood out upon his forehead, and there was a wild look in his deep blue eyes. But the man to whom he made his passionate appeal kept his back turned and heeded not a word of it. Instead of answering he addressed the General. "General Luxton," Rupert said, calmly, "the accused, in denying the truth of my statement, mentions the names of two men whom he admits were witnesses of this lamentable occurrence. Might I suggest that they be called to give their version?" The General nodded assent, and the thing was done. But Hilton was the only one who answered the summons, and on reference to a list of the killed and wounded it was found that Fenwick was reported missing. "John Hilton, the accused has appealed to you to give evidence on his behalf. Let us hear what you saw of him during the recent fighting." The man, an ordinary-looking private, stepped forward and saluted. "I only saw him for a moment, sir," he said, slowly, and with a marked reluctance. "I was riding behind Lieutenant Devereux when I saw him leave his company and pass us a few yards to the left. It struck me that he looked very pale, and I thought that perhaps he was wounded." "He did not leave his company to come to your master's assistance, then?" "Certainly not, sir. We were not in any need of it. None of the enemy were near us." "Thank you. You can go, Hilton." The man saluted and went. There was a dead silence for a full minute. Then there came a passionate, hysterical cry from the prisoner-- "_Liar! Liar!_ General Luxton, upon my honour, either my brother and this man are under some hallucination or they have entered into a conspiracy against me. Before God Almighty I swear that I only left my post because several of the enemy had crept down from the hill behind and had attacked my brother and his servant. I killed one of them, and the blood of the other is still on my sword. Why, Rupert, you know that you called out, 'Thanks, Herbert, you have saved my life.' Those were your very words!"