no doubt, so far as the
Honorable Cuthbert was concerned, an absolutely truthful one. The
beautiful youth was manifestly as guileless as a small boy playing
pirate with a wooden sword. But as to Mr. Shaw, who could tell
that it hadn't after all been a trumped-up affair between Miss
Browne and him--that his surprise at the message was not assumed to
throw dust in the eyes of his young and trusting friend? Are even
the most valiant adventurers invariably honest? Left behind by his
companions because of his injury, his chance of an enduring fame
cut off, with no prospects but those of an officer on an ocean
liner, might he not lend a ready ear to a scheme for plucking a fat
and willing pigeon? So great was my faith in Aunt Jane's
gullibility, so dark my distrust of Miss Browne, that all connected
with the enterprise lay under the cloud of my suspicion. The
Honorable Mr. Vane I had already so far exculpated as to wonder if
he were not in some way being victimized too; but Mr. Shaw, after
even a casual glimpse of him, one couldn't picture as a victim. I
felt that he must have gone into the enterprise with his eyes open
to its absurdity, and fully aware that the only gold to be won by
anybody must come out of the pocket of Aunt Jane.

As these reflections passed through my mind I looked up and saw the
subject of them approaching. He lifted his helmet, but met my eyes
unsmilingly, with a sort of sober scrutiny. He had the tanned skin
of a sailor, and brown hair cropped close and showing a trace of
gray. This and a certain dour grim look he had made me at first
consider him quite middle-aged, though I knew later that he was not
yet thirty-five. As to the grimness, perhaps, I unwillingly
conceded, part of it was due to the scar which seamed the right
temple to the eyebrow, in a straight livid line. But it was a grim
face anyway, strong-jawed, with piercing steel-blue eyes.

He was welcomed by Mr. Vane with a joyous thump on the
shoulder-blade. "I say, old man, Miss Harding has turned out to be
the most fearful doubting Thomas--thinks the whole scheme quite mad
and all that sort of thing. I'm far too great a duffer to convert
her, but perhaps you might, don't you know?"

Mr. Shaw looked at me steadily. His eyes were the kind that seem
to see all and reveal nothing. I felt a hot spark of defiance
rising in my own.

"And indeed it is too bad," he said coolly, "that the trip should
not be more to Miss Harding'