“Well, it is no new idea. It is a thing that he has had in his mind for years. I have heard him talk of it long ago. I remember hearing him, once say that the only chance now remaining by which a man could gain brilliant distinction was the discovery of the sources of the Nile. Every other part of the world, he said, is known.” “How long should you think he might be absent on such a journey?” asked Edith, anxiously. “How long? Ah! Miss Dalton, so long that it should not be thought of. Years must elapse before he returns.” “Years!” “Yes--if he ever does return,” said Dudleigh, in a mournful voice. “With him now the question is not, When will he return? but rather, Will he ever return? It is, as you must know, a most desperate and hopeless undertaking. For thousands of years men have tried that journey, and failed.” “But may he not be baffled and turn back? There is some hope in that. He will find out that it is impossible.” And Edith for a moment grasped at that thought. “You will think me one of Job's comforters,” said Dudleigh, with a melancholy smile. “But I think it is a poor mark of friendship to hide the truth. It is better for you to know all now. The fact is, there would be some hope of his return if he were any other than Sir Lionel Dudleigh. But being what he is, he will follow his purpose to the end. He is a man of unflinching courage and inflexible determination. More than this, he announced to his friends before he left that he would either bring back the truth about the sources of the Nile, or else he would not come back at all. So now he has not only his resolution to impel him, but his pride also.” “This hope, then, fails me utterly,” said Edith, after a long pause. “I fear so.” “He is, in fact, the same as dead.” “Yes, as far as you are concerned, and your present needs.” “This is terrible!” “Miss Dalton, I do not know what to say. I can only say that my heart aches for you. I delayed on the road, because I could not bear to bring this news to you. Then I wrote a letter, and thought of sending that, but I feared you might not get it. I could not bear to see you in sorrow.” “You, at least, Lieutenant Dudleigh,” said Edith, earnestly, “have acted toward me like a true friend and a true gentleman. No one could have done more. It is some consolation to know that every thing which was possible has been done.” There was now a long pause. Each one was lost in thought. Edith's sad face was turned toward Dudleigh, but she did not notice him. She was wrapped in her own thoughts, and wondering how long she could endure the life that now lay before her. “Miss Dalton,” said Dudleigh at length, in a mournful voice, “I have to leave at once to join my regiment, for my leave is up, and it may be some time before I see you again.” He paused.