Once more he paused for breath, while Owen leaned over him and gave him another sip of the spirit.
"Tell me about the scheme and about these relatives of mine," he said gently. "I can forgive you for all that you may have done, if you will make amends now while you are able. You say that my name is Owen Marshall. Speak of my father, of my mother, and of others whom you may have known."
"Listen, then. Fifteen years ago, more or less, I came to this country, and was quartered with the native troops at Pondicherry, where the French are settled. We fought the English constantly, and when two years had passed it happened that I was taken prisoner and carried to Calcutta, where I was placed on my parole. The English are good. Their soldiers are brave and jovial, and their officers the best of fellows. They fight an enemy with courage and dash. They make friends with equal readiness. They were good to me. They fed me, housed me, invited me to their homes, and made the hours pass as a pleasant dream to a poor captive Frenchman. I came to like them, to forget all the old hatred and prejudice, and—ah, there was another reason—your father was there, Captain Thomas Marshall of[Pg 334] the 22nd regiment, temporarily in the service of the Company, and he it was who made Calcutta what it was for me; for listen, Owen——"
Silence fell over the group once more, our hero holding his breath as he waited for the next words, while Mulha stood like a statue over the dying man. Above them the moon stared down upon a scene as strange and as tragic as could be imagined, for here was a man who had erred, stricken to his death and with little of life remaining, while kneeling beside him was a youth whose future fortunes depended largely upon the information which was locked in the Colonel's breast. No wonder that Owen trembled, no wonder that he stared at the mute lips of Colonel Le Pourton with a longing which he could not express. But this Frenchman had the courage of despair and the tenacity of purpose which helps a man to carry out a task, however arduous. Talking was difficult. His breath came shorter and quicker, and a thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. But still he forced himself to complete the tale, and, gathering all his strength, once more proceeded with it.
"Listen carefully, for now I come to your parents. Your father, this Captain Marshall, a fine and gallant officer, had by some strange fortune met and married my cousin when in London. She, poor girl, had gone to England with her father, who was a wealthy merchant, and who died about the time of my imprisonment, leaving this girl a fine fortune. You were there, Owen, the apple of a proud father and mother's eyes, and fortune[Pg 335] smiled on you and on them. Mon dieu! What a tale of ignominy for a dying man to tell! Would that I had never thought of this ghastly scheme. But gold, with all the useful purposes to which it may be put, is a fatal magnet which draws many to ill-doing. This cousin, your dear mother, had in earlier days been my dear friend, and at one time it seemed that we might be married. She had cared for me, and now she felt pity for my condition. She made a will. I saw it, Owen. All was left to your father, and then to you. If those two lives failed, the fortune she had inherited was to go to me. Yes, for the wealth was entrusted to others for her benefit, and was administered by relatives in England. Otherwise, from all I know of the English law, it would have gone to your father on the marriage. But no matter. Facts were as I have stated, and I found myself poor and a captive with those three lives between me and a fortune. Your mother died, and your miserable father went up country on some military expedition, leaving me to send you home. You sailed on an Indiaman, and with you, in addition to an ayah, went one who was my agent. He it was who abducted you, and then, fearing to go to extremes, left you on the roadside. Your father was slain in that expedition, and I was left, as I thought, sole survivor."
"And my relatives? How is it that they did not discover me?"
Owen asked the question eagerly as he bent over the Colonel.
"They had no word of your coming. They thought[Pg 336] you safe in India, and it was not till a year later that they learned that your mother was dead and your father slain. Also that you had been sent to England and had landed there. The ayah was able to report how you had been abducted, and afterwards—there is little marvel in the fact that search failed to reveal you. More than a year had passed, and you were lost."
"And you were the heir?"
"I thought so, but was disappointed. Your English courts are precise and particular. The trustees of this fortune handed the money over to these courts, and though I tried to prove your death I was unable to do so. My scheme had succeeded too well where you were concerned, but had failed to better my fortunes. I took service with Holkar, and a month ago, when you arrived at the palace and I recognised you by your likeness to my one-time friend, I thought still to retrieve this fortune, to obtain that for which I had so long intrigued. But there is a God above us, and surely it is true that He watches over the widow and the orphan. You escaped where another would have remained, fearful of discovery and of the difficulties which had to be faced. That British dash and daring, that promptness in great danger for which your race is so justly famed, took you safely from Indore, and left me with rage and disappointment in my heart, and with every intention of pursuing you. I left Indore mainly for that purpose, for our spies learned that you had ridden to Agra, and that you had joined General Lake's division. I had you watched, and—ah, how cruel is the thought to me now!—there were those[Pg 337] in your camp who were hired to slay you. But you were guarded. Those faithful natives who look up to you as if they were children watched over you, so that my men were helpless. The armies met, and——"