There was surprise unbounded on the surgeon’s side. ‘Why, Geoff, I thought you were in Norway!’ he exclaimed. ‘I changed my mind about Norway,’ answered the other somewhat sheepishly. ‘How could I be such a selfish scoundrel as to go and enjoy myself shooting and fishing and so on, while she is lonely? No, Lucius, I feel somehow that it is my destiny to win her, and that it will be my own fault—_de mon tort_, as the lawyers say—if I lose my chance. So when I got as far as Hull I turned tail, and came back to town, where I found a letter from my cousin Belle Hossack offering me the very opportunity I wanted.’ ‘Your cousin Belle! the very opportunity! What do you mean? What could your cousin Belle have to do with my sister?’ ‘An introduction to Lady Baker. Don’t you see, Lucius? From Lady Baker I might find out all about that villain who called himself Vandeleur. Now, for heaven’s sake, old fellow, be calm and hear what I have to tell you. I’ve travelled up from Hampshire post haste on purpose to tell you all by word of mouth. I might have written, but I wanted to talk the matter over with you. You may be able to throw some light upon this business.’ ‘Upon what business?’ asked Lucius, mystified by this hurried and disjointed address. ‘You may be able to tell me what became of that wild fellow who came in upon us in our log-hut out yonder—whether he is alive or dead. Why, good heavens, Lucius, you’ve turned as white as a sheet of paper! What’s the matter?’ ‘I’m tired,’ said the surgeon, dropping slowly into a chair by the table, and shading his face with his hand. ‘And your wild talk is enough to bewilder any man; especially one who has just come in from a harassing round amongst sickness and poverty. What do you mean? You speak one minute of my sister and Lady Baker, and in the next of that man we met yonder. What link can there be between subjects so wide apart?’ ‘A closer link than you could ever guess. The villain who married your sister and that man yonder—’ ‘Were one and the same!’ cried Lucius, almost with a shriek. ‘I suspected it; I suspected it out yonder in the forest, as I sat and watched that man’s face in the firelight. I have suspected it since then many a time; have dreamt it oftener than I can count; for half my dreams are haunted by the hateful shadow of that man. Was I right? For God’s sake speak out, Geoffrey. Is that the man?’ ‘It is.’ ‘You know it?’ ‘I have had indisputable proof of it. Lady Baker showed me a photograph of the man who stole your sister from her home, and the face in that photograph is the face of the man we let into our hut in the backwoods.’