“Poisoned, sir.”
“Good heavens! But by whom?”
“One who had sworn to have revenge upon him—one who wanted his money; and who was seen and caught lurking about the Fort, sir, one dark night, waiting for his opportunity, for he knew the place well from a boy.”
“Great heavens, man, whom do you mean?”
“The man who has blighted my life, sir, Mr Christopher Lisle.”
“Rubbish!”
“What, sir?”
“You’re mad.”
“I wish I was, sir, and that I could say to myself you’re fancying all this; I should be a happier man, sir. But I can’t. I’ve fought with it and smothered it down, but it’s one living fire, sir, and it’s kept burning the day through.”
“Mr Christopher Lisle?”