“But it seems altogether incredible.  That some one has unbolted the man’s cabin from the outside seems manifest, and it is clear that either gross treachery, or gross carelessness, enabled him to get free.  I own that, although the sergeant of marines declares positively that he fastened the bolts, I think that he could not have done so, for treachery seems almost out of the question.  That an officer should have done this seems impossible; and yet, what the man says about the cabin, and being let out by a rope, would seem to show that it must have been an officer.”

“I am sorry to say, sir,” Middleton said, “that the man gave proofs of the truth of what he was saying.  The officer, he said, gave him a paper, which I heard and saw the general reading aloud.  It was a warning that Captain Walsham had purposely allowed himself to be captured, and that he was, in fact, a spy.  The French officer, in his haste, laid down the paper on the table when he rushed out, and I had just time to creep under the canvas, seize it, and make off with it.  Here it is, sir.  I have showed it to Captain Peters.”

The admiral took the paper and read it, and handed it, without a word, to General Wolfe.

“That is proof conclusive,” he said.  “Peters, do you know the handwriting?”

“Yes,” Captain Peters said gravely.  “I recognized it at once, as did Mr. Middleton.  It is the handwriting of Lieutenant Horton.”

“But what on earth could be the motive of this unhappy young man?” the admiral asked.

“I imagine, sir, from what I saw on the evening before Captain Walsham set out, and, indeed, from what Captain Walsham said when I questioned him, that it was a case of private enmity against Captain Walsham.”

“Is this so, Captain Walsham?” General Wolfe asked.

“I have no enmity against him, sir,” James said, “though I own that his manner impressed me with the idea that he regarded me as an enemy.  The fact is, we lived near each other as boys, and we had a fight.  I got the best of it.  He gave an account of the affair, which was not exactly correct, to his uncle, Mr. Linthorne, a wealthy landowner and a magistrate.  The latter had me up at the justice room; but I brought forward witnesses, who gave their account of the affair.  Mr. Linthorne considered that his nephew—­whom he had at that time regarded as his heir—­had not given a correct account, and was so angry that he sent him to sea.

“I would say, sir,” he said earnestly, “that, were it possible, I should have wished this unhappy affair to be passed over.”

“Impossible!” the admiral and general said together.

“I fear it is impossible now, sir,” James said gravely; “but it might have been stopped before.”

“Captain Walsham wanted me to tear up the note,” the midshipman put in; “but, though I was awfully sorry such a thing should happen to an officer of the Sutherland, I was obliged to refuse to do so, as I thought it was my duty to hand the note to you.”