"Stand on the far side," said Owen to Mulha in English. "The Colonel is dying, and I think is about to confess something which has to do with my earlier life. Listen and remember what you hear. It is important that there should be a witness. Now, Colonel," he went on, taking the fallen officer's hand gently in his own, "speak. Tell me all you know. Tell me everything that may concern my early life." There was a long pause while the unfortunate man gathered strength and breath, lying there with closed eyes and one hand resting on his breast. Then he slowly looked up at Owen, gently returned the pressure of his hand, and smiled. "I have done an evil thing and am repaid with bitterness," he whispered. "Mon dieu! What misery I have caused! What suffering to that good man. And to you--what a bar I have been to progress. But for me and this wicked scheme you would have been wealthy, titled perhaps, and brought up amongst those who would have cared for and loved you. Yes, for when you lay in that poorhouse there were those living in England who would have given all their wealth, even their right hands, to have discovered you. My scheme was terribly successful." Once more he paused for breath, while Owen leaned over him and gave him another sip of the spirit. "Tell me about the scheme and about these relatives of mine," he said gently. "I can forgive you for all that you may have done, if you will make amends now while you are able. You say that my name is Owen Marshall. Speak of my father, of my mother, and of others whom you may have known." "Listen, then. Fifteen years ago, more or less, I came to this country, and was quartered with the native troops at Pondicherry, where the French are settled. We fought the English constantly, and when two years had passed it happened that I was taken prisoner and carried to Calcutta, where I was placed on my parole. The English are good. Their soldiers are brave and jovial, and their officers the best of fellows. They fight an enemy with courage and dash. They make friends with equal readiness. They were good to me. They fed me, housed me, invited me to their homes, and made the hours pass as a pleasant dream to a poor captive Frenchman. I came to like them, to forget all the old hatred and prejudice, and--ah, there was another reason--your father was there, Captain Thomas Marshall of the 22nd regiment, temporarily in the service of the Company, and he it was who made Calcutta what it was for me; for listen, Owen----"