want you to come and help me."
Randolph's heart leaped. The appeal revived all his old boyish
enthusiasm, with his secret loyalty to the man before him. But he
suddenly remembered his past illusions, and for an instant he hesitated.
"But the bank," he stammered, scarce knowing what to say.
The captain smiled. "I will pay you better than the bank; and at the end
of four months, in whatever way this job turns out, if you still wish to
return here, I will see that you are secured from any loss. Perhaps you
may be able to get a leave of absence. But your real object must be kept
a secret from every one. Not a word of my existence or my purpose must
be blown before I am ready. You and Jack Redhill are all that know it
now."
"But you have a lawyer?" said the surprised Randolph.
"Not yet. I'm my own lawyer in this matter until I get fairly under way.
I've studied the law enough to know that as soon as I prove that I'm
alive the case must go on on account of my heir, whether I choose to cry
quits or not. And it's just THAT that holds my hand."
Randolph stared at the extraordinary man before him. For a moment, as
the strange story of his miraculous escape and his still more wonderful
indifference to it all recurred to his mind, he felt a doubt of the
narrator's truthfulness or his sanity. But another glance at the
sailor's frank eyes dispelled that momentary suspicion. He held out his
hand as frankly, and grasping Captain Dornton's, said, "I will go."
V
Randolph's request for a four months' leave of absence was granted with
little objection and no curiosity. He had acquired the confidence of his
employers, and beyond Mr. Revelstoke's curt surprise that a young fellow
on the road to fortune should sacrifice so much time to irrelevant
travel, and the remark, "But you know your own business best," there was
no comment. It struck the young man, however, that Mr. Dingwall's slight
coolness on receiving the news might be attributed to a suspicion that
he was following Miss Avondale, whom he had fancied Dingwall disliked,
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