only his supreme selfishness had made him what he was. He
laid a hand on himself now, though it was not easy to do so.

"It was not the luck of Enniscorthy that sent Erris Boyne to his doom,"
he said, however, with anger in his mind, for Dyck's calm boldness
stirred the worst in him. He thought he saw in him an exultancy which
could only come from his late experiences in the field. It was as though
he had come to triumph over the governor. Mallow said what he had said
with malice. He looked to see rage in the face of Dyck Calhoun, and was
nonplussed to find that it had only a stern sort of pleasure. The eyes
of Calhoun met his with no trace of gloom, but with a valour worthy of a
high cause--their clear blue facing his own with a constant penetration.
Their intense sincerity gave him a feeling which did not belong to
authority. It was not the look of a criminal, whatever the man might
be--mutineer and murderer. As for mutineer, all that Calhoun had fought
for had been at last admitted by the British Government, and reforms had
been made that were due to the mutiny at the Nore. Only the technical
crime had been done by Calhoun, and he had won pardon by his bravery in
the battle at sea. Yes, he was a man of mark, even though a murderer.

Calhoun spoke slowly. "Your honour, you have said what you have a right
to say to a man who killed Erris Boyne. But this man you accuse did
not do it." The governor smiled, for the assumption was ridiculous. He
shrugged a shoulder and a sardonic curl came to his lip.

"Who did it then?"

"If you will come to the house of the general commanding you will see."

The governor was in a great quandary. He gasped. "The general
commanding--did he kill Erris Boyne, then?"

"Not he, yet the person that did it is in this house. Listen, your
honour. I have borne the name of killing Erris Boyne, and I ought to
have killed him, for he was a traitor. I had proofs of it; but I did
not kill him, and I did not betray him, for he had alive a wife and
daughter, and something was due to them. He was a traitor, and was in
league with the French. It does not matter that I tell you now, for his
daughter knows the truth. I ought to have told it long ago, and if I had
I should not have been imprisoned."

"You were a brave man, but a fool--always a fool," said the governor
sharply.

"Not so great a fool that I can't recover from it," was the calm reply.
"Perhaps it was the best thing that ever happened to m