"Forget it!" he whispered. "Fight down the recollection of the whole thing; do nothing based upon your discovery. I cannot say more, but I am going to give you advice worth much gold. Promise me that you will forget this matter; that you will not mention it to a soul. Promise!" Geoffrey promised, somewhat puzzled and dazed. Did Ralph know everything, or was he as ignorant as the rest? "I will do what you like," said Geoffrey. "But it is very hard. Can't you tell me a little more? I am brave and strong." "Courage and strength have nothing to do with it. A nation could do nothing in this case. I am going to London to-day." "You are going to London alone?" "Why not? I came here from the other side of the world alone. I have to see a doctor about my eyes. No, there is no hope that I can ever recover my sight again; but it is possible to allay the pain they give me." Ralph departed. A dogcart deposited him at Biston Junction, and then the servant saw him safely into the London train. But presently Ralph alighted and a porter guided him to a cab. A little later and the blind man was knocking at the door of a cottage in the poorer portion of the town. A short, stocky man, with a seafaring air, opened the door. "Is it you, Elphick?" Ralph asked. The short man with the resolute face and keen, gray eyes exclaimed with pleasure: "So you've got back at last, sir. Come in, sir. I am alone here as you know. I knew you'd want me before long." Ralph Ravenspur felt his way to a chair. James Elphick stood watching him with something more than pleasure in his eyes. "We have no time to spare," Ralph exclaimed. "We must be in London to-night, James. I am going up to see Dr. Tchigorsky." "Dr. Tchigorsky!" Elphick exclaimed. "Didn't I always say as how he'd get through? The man who'd get the best of him ain't born yet. But it means danger, sir. Nothing we ever carried out with the doctor was anything else." "Danger you do not dream of," Ralph said impressively. "But I cannot discuss this with you, James. You are coming with me to London. Get the disguise out and let me see if your hand still retains its cunning." Apparently it had, for an hour later there walked from the cottage toward the station an elderly, stout man, with white hair and beard and whiskers. His eyes were guarded by tinted glasses; the complexion of the face was singularly clear and ruddy. All trace of those cruel criss-cross lines had gone. Wherever Elphick had learned his art, he had not failed to learn it thoroughly. "It's perfect; though I say it as shouldn't," he remarked. "It's no use, sir; you can't get on without me. If I'd gone with you to Lassa, all that horrible torture business would never have happened." Ralph Ravenspur smiled cautiously. The stiff dressing on his face made a smile difficult in any case. "At all events, I shall want you now," he said.