Old Maynard wrung his comrade's hand. "You make me hope in spite of myself,--my past experiences,--my very senses, Armitage. I have leaned on you so many years that I missed you sorely when this trial came. If you had been there, things might not have taken this shape. He looks upon Chester--and it's one thing Chester hasn't forgiven in him--as a meddling old granny; you remember the time he so spoke of him last year; but he holds you in respect, or is afraid of you,--which in a man of his calibre is about the same thing. It may not be too late for you to act. Then when he is disposed of once and for all, I can know what must be done--where she is concerned." "And under no circumstances can you question Mrs. Maynard?" "No! no! If she suspected anything of this it would kill her. In any event, she must have no suspicion of it _now_." "But does she not ask? Has she no theory about the missing photograph? Surely she must marvel over its disappearance." "She _does_; at least, she _did_; but--I'm ashamed to own it, Armitage--we had to quiet her natural suspicions in some way, and I told her that it was my doing,--that I took it to tease Alice, put the photograph in the drawer of my desk, and hid the frame behind her sofa-pillow. Chester knows of the arrangement, and we had settled that when the picture was recovered from Mr. Jerrold he would send it to me." Armitage was silent. A frown settled on his forehead, and it was evident that the statement was far from welcome to him. Presently he held forth his hand. "Well, good-night, sir. I must go and have a quiet think over this. I hope you will rest well. You need it, colonel." But Maynard only shook his head. His heart was too troubled for rest of any kind. He stood gazing out towards the park, where the tall figure of his ex-adjutant had disappeared among the trees. He heard the low-toned, pleasant chat of the ladies in the sitting-room, but he was in no mood to join them. He wished that Armitage had not gone, he felt such strength and comparative hope in his presence; but it was plain that even Armitage was confounded by the array of facts and circumstances that he had so painfully and slowly communicated to him. The colonel went drearily back to the room in which they had had their long conference. His wife and sister both hailed him as he passed the sitting-room door, and urged him to come and join them,--they wanted to ask about Captain Armitage, with whom it was evident they were much impressed; but he answered that he had some letters to put away, and he must attend first to that. Among those that had been shown to the captain, mainly letters from Chester telling of the daily events at the fort and of his surveillance in the case of Jerrold, was one which Alice had brought him two days before. This had seemed to him of unusual importance, as the others contained nothing that tended to throw new light on the case. It said,--