“Here is an order for you to see him.  If it was anyone else, I might have my doubts about granting it, but as you are the man against whom he played this scurvy trick, I feel safe in doing so.

“There you are, my lad.  Give me your hand.  You are a fine fellow, Major Walsham, a very fine fellow.”

Immediately upon entering Quebec, James had purchased a large turn-screw, some ten yards of fine but strong rope, and three or four bladders.  When he procured the order, he went to his cabin, took off his coat, wound the rope round his body, and then, putting on his coat, placed the flattened bladders under it and buttoned it up, slipping the turn-screw up his sleeve, and then proceeded to the prisoner’s cabin.  The sentry at once admitted him, on producing the admiral’s order.

Richard Horton was lying down on his berth, and started with surprise as his visitor entered.

“I am glad you have come to see me, James Walsham, for I have been wishing to speak to you, and I thought you would come.  I have been thinking much for the last two days.  I know that it is all up with me.  The proofs are too strong, and I will not face a court martial, for I have the means—­I know I may tell you safely—­of avoiding it.  The hour that brings me news that the court is ordered to assemble, I cease to live.

“When a man is at that point, he sees things more clearly, perhaps, than he did before.  I know that I have wronged you, and, when the admiral said that you had done all in your power to shield me, I felt more humiliated than I did when that fatal letter was produced.  I know what you have come for—­to tell me that you bear me no malice.  You are a fine fellow, Walsham, and deserve all your good fortune, just as I deserve what has befallen me.  I think, if it had not been for the squire taking me up, I should never have come to this, but might have grown up a decent fellow.  But my head was turned.  I thought I was going to be a great man, and this is what has come of it.”

“I have come partly, as you suppose, to tell you that I bear you no malice, Richard Horton.  I, too, have thought matters over, and understand your feeling against me.  That first unfortunate quarrel, and its unfortunate result, set you against me, and, perhaps, I never did as much as I might to turn your feelings the other way.  However, we will not talk more of that.  All that is past and over.  I come to you, now, as the nephew of the man who has done so much for me.  I have brought with me the means of aiding your escape.”

“Of aiding my escape, Walsham!  You must be mad!  I am too securely fastened here; and, even were it not so, I would not accept a kindness which would cost you your commission, were it known.”

“As to the second reason, you may make your mind easy.  From words which dropped, from the admiral, I am sure that everyone will be so glad, at your escape, that no very strict inquiry will be made.  In the next place, your fastenings are not so very secure.  The porthole is screwed down as usual.”