Thomas Glynne looked at Jack, who returned the gaze, and instantly recognised the man whom, of all on earth, he least desired to see. The thought occurred at once to each, “Why is he here?” but neither could answer the question.
Cromillian looked up. “Monsieur Andrea Fortier,” said he, addressing Jack, “my thanks are due you for the great service which you have rendered one of my band. This letter, although addressed to me, is for another person. He cannot read, but I will communicate the contents to him and will write his reply, which you can take back to him to-morrow. See that he has food and a bed—the best we can afford,” and Cromillian waved his hand towards the two men who had accompanied Jack to the camp.
As soon as Jack had departed, Cromillian turned to the four captors of Thomas Glynne.
“Whom have we here?” he asked.
Glynne felt that it was a crucial time with him. He must tell a good story, or the bandits might look upon him as a spy and treat him in a summary manner. He was naturally bold and resourceful, and he now summoned all his wits to his aid.
“Will you allow me to ask a question?” he said, addressing Cromillian.
The latter nodded.
“What did that young man who brought the letter to you say his name was?”
“He gave the name of Andrea Fortier,” Cromillian replied.
“That is not his real name,” cried Glynne. “My name is Thomas Glynne. I am an Englishman. His name is Jack De Vinne and he, too, is an Englishman. He caused my ward, Bertha Renville, to run away and he is here to join her. I promised her father on his dying bed that I would be a father to her and protect her. This Andrea Fortier, as he calls himself, is of low origin, while she is a girl of wealth and refinement. He seeks but her fortune, and I appeal to you for justice.”