“In some remote nook of the New World, where the nearest city is a hundred miles away, with his wife on one hand and you on the other, to love and care for him, Lionel Dering, like a storm-tossed ship that has reached a happy haven at last, might live out the remainder of his days in quiet happiness; without any haunting dread that his past life would ever become known, or that he would ever be touched on the shoulder by any other hand than that of a friend.” “Yes—yes; living out in the bush, or something of that kind is what you mean,” said the old soldier, excitedly. “I’ve camped out in the jungle many a time, and know what it is. It’s not such a bad sort of life when you get used to it. Why not get Li to sail next week? I’m an old campaigner, and could have my rattletraps ready in a few hours.” “But to go away thus,” resumed Tom, “with the red stain of murder clinging to his name; with the foul conspiracy to destroy him still unravelled; with his wrongs unavenged; is what Lionel Dering will never consent to do. And I confess that, were I in his place, my feelings in the matter would be very similar to his. He has set before himself one great object in life, and he will never rest till he has accomplished it. And that is—to track out and bring to punishment the real murderer of Percy Osmond.” “But—but what can he do?” faltered the General. “It seems to me that his predicament is such that he is quite powerless to help himself, or to take any action whatever in his own interests.” “At the first glance it would naturally seem so,” said Tom. “But some of the difficulties which surround his case, as it stands at present, may, perhaps, be got over by a little ingenuity. I am going to put before you a certain scheme which may, or may not, meet with your approbation. Should you not approve of it, it will have to be at once abandoned, as it will be impossible to carry it out without your active help and co-operation.” “My dear Mr. Bristow, you have told me enough this morning to induce me to promise beforehand that any scheme you may put before me, which has for its basis the welfare of Lionel, will meet with my heartiest support. No man could have proved himself a better friend to my dear boy than you have done. Your wishes are my law.” After satisfying himself that there were no eavesdroppers about, Tom proceeded to lay before General St. George the details of a scheme which he had been elaborating in his brain for several days, and which, in outline, had been already agreed to by Lionel. When Tom ceased speaking, the old soldier mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. He was hot and nervous with excitement. “Your scheme is certainly a most extraordinary one,” he said; “but I have faith in your ability to carry it out. I need hardly say that you may depend upon my doing my best in every way to second your designs.” Tom stayed and dined with the General, and went back to London by the night mail.