“Surely I will listen to you, but I am certain you have broken no trust of mine.” Gervase retired to the window, while Macpherson went through his narrative without interruption and with an air of self-deprecation that he seldom showed. When he had done, he drew a piece of parchment from his breast and laid it on the table. On one side was written the message that Colonel Lundy had commissioned him to deliver at Enniskillen, on the other a number of lines and points were traced apparently in red ink. “Now,” he said, “that is the whole story, and here is the plan on which is marked, with what skill I could command, the bearings by which the spot may be found. I could indeed walk blindfold thither, but I shall not be here when the time comes. Perhaps Mr. Orme will follow me as I point out to you the meaning of this scratch.” Gervase came up to the table, and Dorothy and he together looked down on the red lines on which the old soldier had placed his forefinger. Then she looked up hastily: “With what have you done this?” she cried. “Even with the first ink that came to my hand; ´tis none the less plain for that. Now,” he continued, “here is the way from the city, and here are the cross-roads which you cannot miss. Fifty paces further from that point bring you to a sycamore. Ten steps due west is the hedge, traced thus. And there at the foot of the wild apple-tree you will find the hole I digged. ´Tis covered with a flat stone and concealed by bracken, but by those who know the sign cannot be missed.” “And I hope,” said Dorothy calmly, looking up in Macpherson´s face, “that it will never be found. Let it lie buried there for ever. Never let me look on it again. I would give the world that I had never seen it.” Macpherson looked at her in wonder. “You do not understand me I know, but Mr. Orme does, and I know my secret is safe with him. Truly,” she added bitterly, and with a certain wildness, “your chart was well written with blood.” “´Twas the best I could do: I am sorry that it does not please you.” “You mistake Miss Carew´s meaning,” said Gervase. “She finds no fault with what you have done, and I think you have acted discreetly. But others are concerned in this, and she must not act without consideration.” “However I may act,” said Dorothy, “you will promise to say nothing of this till you have my permission; neither to my aunt nor to my brother. They must know nothing of it now. And, Mr. Orme, I know the favour that I ask is great, but I cannot bear the sight of this now; will you keep it till I ask it from you?” Gervase consented with some misgiving, but had she ordered him at that moment to go in search of the treasure single handed, ´tis likely that he would have done her bidding cheerfully, and gone without a word.