In making my plans I was greatly helped by my chum, Gordon. He had been with me at Dartmouth, after that in the _Vengeance_, and now again in the _Terrible_; he therefore knew me well enough to implicitly believe me when I assured him upon my word of honour that I was innocent. He was a good chum; not only did he believe in my innocence but he also stoutly maintained it to others, whenever the matter was referred to, although the evidence so cunningly woven was strong enough to secure my conviction. And when the result of the court martial was known, he not only sat down and wrote a long account of the affair to his parents, but insisted--taking no denial--that, before doing anything else, I should call upon his parents and consult with his father, Sir Robert. And this I at length, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to do, although I was by no means sure that his people would be so ready as he was to take me upon trust. Yet, apart from my uncle and aunt, Sir Robert and Lady Gordon were the only friends I had; and now was the time when of all others I most urgently needed the help of friends. At first I permitted myself to entertain certain high-flown ideas of going out into the world and fighting my battle alone and unaided; but Gordon was a level-headed youngster, and although he was a year younger than myself I was fain to admit the wisdom of his assertion that no fellow is sufficiently independent to ignore the advice and help of friends. Besides, I had already met Sir Robert and his wife--had indeed on one occasion spent ten days' leave with Ronald under their roof; and more genial, kindly, warmer-hearted people it would be impossible to imagine; so I felt hopeful that, with Ronald for my sponsor and advocate, Sir Robert would not refuse to give me his best advice and assistance. It was late in the afternoon when I arrived at Waterloo--too late, I knew, to catch Sir Robert Gordon at his office; I therefore slung my chest on top of a cab, and ordered the driver to take me to a certain quiet and unassuming but comfortable hotel near the Embankment, where I proposed to take up my quarters until I could see my way a little more clearly. Here I dined, took a walk along the Embankment afterwards, and turned in early, not feeling in cue for amusement of any kind. On the following morning I rose late, of deliberate purpose, had my breakfast, and then sauntered along the Embankment toward Sir Robert's office, timing myself to arrive there about eleven o'clock, by which time I calculated that Ronald's father would about have gone through his morning's correspondence, and would be able to spare me a few minutes of his time. As it chanced, I could not have timed my movements better, for as I was shown up to Sir Robert's private room I encountered his secretary just coming out, with a notebook in one hand and a goodly batch of letters in the other.