m, and gradually led the conversation round to the days
when I used to live in Acacia Road with Aunt Marion. I told him that she
had married Major Ruston, and gone to India, but that I did not know her
address nor Major Ruston's regiment.

'We can soon find that out,' he said, and sent the butler for the _Army
List_. When he had looked in this, he raised his eyes to my face again,
mentioning the number of the regiment, and explaining that it was at
present at Madras.

Then he turned to the book again. 'I don't find Captain Knowlton--didn't
you say that was the name?' he asked.

'Yes,' I answered, 'but he left the service when he came home from
India, four or five years ago. He came into a lot of money, you see.'

'And Captain Knowlton was your guardian?' he asked, fixing his eyeglass.

'Not exactly an ordinary guardian,' I explained. 'My father was a
soldier too, and Captain Knowlton said he saved his life, and that was
why he looked after me.'

After I had told him all about Mr. Parsons, he rose and went to the room
where I had first seen him, calling me to follow. I shut the door when
Mrs. Westlake had entered, and Mr. Westlake stood lighting a cigar.

'Upon my word,' he said, in his slightly drawling voice, 'there seems to
be only one thing that is possible to be done with you for the present,
Everard.'

'What is that?' I asked, with considerable misgiving.

'Naturally,' he continued, 'I shall write to Major Ruston and explain
the exact circumstances in which Mrs. Westlake found you, and I have no
doubt that when he hears what I shall tell him, he will make some sort
of arrangement for your future.'

'But it will take a long time to get an answer.'

'No doubt, but you seem to be placed in a very awkward position. As far
as I can understand, Captain Knowlton had every intention of looking
after you if he had lived----'

'Oh, yes!' I cried, 'because he told me I was to go to Sandhurst.'

'But, you see,' he said, 'he did not make a will. Is that right?'

'Yes,' I answered. 'Mr. Turton found out the address of his solicitor,
and told me there was no will.'

'So that, except your aunt in India,' he continued, 'there appears to be
no one upon whom you have the least claim. Yet, Mr. Turton----'

'I don't want to go back to Mr. Turton,' I cried, taking a step towards
him.

He took his cigar from his lips, and stood gazing for a few seconds at
the ash, which he then knocked off into the fender.

'That is