e, you would say? I had a reason, Mr.
Burley--one that might have kept my lips sealed indefinitely. But that
reason ceased to exist about a month ago, and I was free to follow you
to Fort Garry--free to disclose the truth. Are you satisfied, sir?"

"I am content and I am grateful," replied the law clerk. "I have
accomplished the difficult task that brought me across the seas. In this
moment of triumph my arduous labors--my wanderings in a barbarous
land--count for nothing. They are forgotten."

With that Christopher Burley rolled his eyes till the whites, showed,
and a look of vast importance grew on his smug and shaven face. Then, to
my astonishment, he made a low and cringing bow before Captain Rudstone.

"My lord, I congratulate you," he said proudly. "I greet you as the Earl
of Heathermere, of Heathermere Hall, in Surrey--as the heir to an old
and honored title, to a vast and rich estate!"

"I greet you as the Earl of Heathermere, of Heathermere Hall, in
Surrey--as the heir to an old and honored title, to a vast and rich
estate!"

CHAPTER XLV.

FORGING THE LINKS.

Never had I experienced such excitement. The scene was beyond my wildest
thoughts, though I confess that I had expected the captain to prove to
be the heir to some property. But to find him a British peer--this man
who had been my friend and comrade for so many months--it fairly took my
breath away!

Yet there could be no doubt that Captain Rudstone and Osmund Maiden were
one and the same, and with sincere and heartfelt pleasure I offered him
my congratulations. Macdonald followed my example, but Flora held aloof,
and had nothing to say.

"Thank you, my dear Carew," the captain cried heartily, as he clasped my
hand. "I dare say this is a big surprise to all of you. But if it is
quite true--I am the prodigal son come into his own again, and I can
assure you I am glad of it."

"The story is not complete yet," suggested the law clerk. "With your
permission, my lord--"

"You have it, sir," interrupted the captain. "Give these gentlemen a
full explanation. It will come most fittingly from you."

"The narrative is a very brief one," commenced Christopher Burley,
turning to us. "It starts properly in the year 1787. At that time Hugh
Cecil Maiden, third Earl of Heathermere, was a widower with three sons,
by name Reginald, Bertie, and Osmund. The latter was the youngest son
and was not a