"They had no word of your coming. They thought you safe in India, and it was not till a year later that they learned that your mother was dead and your father slain. Also that you had been sent to England and had landed there. The ayah was able to report how you had been abducted, and afterwards--there is little marvel in the fact that search failed to reveal you. More than a year had passed, and you were lost." "And you were the heir?" "I thought so, but was disappointed. Your English courts are precise and particular. The trustees of this fortune handed the money over to these courts, and though I tried to prove your death I was unable to do so. My scheme had succeeded too well where you were concerned, but had failed to better my fortunes. I took service with Holkar, and a month ago, when you arrived at the palace and I recognised you by your likeness to my one-time friend, I thought still to retrieve this fortune, to obtain that for which I had so long intrigued. But there is a God above us, and surely it is true that He watches over the widow and the orphan. You escaped where another would have remained, fearful of discovery and of the difficulties which had to be faced. That British dash and daring, that promptness in great danger for which your race is so justly famed, took you safely from Indore, and left me with rage and disappointment in my heart, and with every intention of pursuing you. I left Indore mainly for that purpose, for our spies learned that you had ridden to Agra, and that you had joined General Lake's division. I had you watched, and--ah, how cruel is the thought to me now!--there were those in your camp who were hired to slay you. But you were guarded. Those faithful natives who look up to you as if they were children watched over you, so that my men were helpless. The armies met, and----" "The day went with us," said Owen gently. "Scindia's hosts were broken, as will be those of Holkar, for who can strive against such men as yours are? I fell, pierced by a lance, and I am now your prisoner, and very near the grave. Forgive me! Let a dying man who has wronged you hear that you can forgive and forget." The unhappy Colonel sat up on his elbow with a huge effort and stared at Owen with bloodshot eyes. There was a look of desperate earnestness on his pallid features. Deep lines of pain marked his face, while his cheeks were pale and sunken. "Forgive and forget!" "I do. I forgive freely, and will forget. Calm yourself, and tell me what little there is left. There, lie down again and be calm. You have had your punishment. It is not for me to add to it. We are none of us perfect, and if you have made a sad mistake, so may I on some future occasion. There! Lie down!" Very gently and tenderly Owen lowered him back into his position, and seeing that he was extremely weak pressed more spirit upon him, causing a little colour to return to his wan cheeks. Then he took the poor fellow's hand again and pressed it.