“But you were present at the trial,” said Brettison.
“No. I never entered the court. I could not go to gloat over my rival’s fall. I merely waited for the result.”
“I remember now; I saw you waiting there,” said Brettison thoughtfully. “And I, of course, saw the prisoners side by side, but from the gallery, right behind and far above. I never caught a glimpse of either face until they turned to leave the dock, and then it was this man’s only—the other prisoner went first.”
“And I could not see in this wretched madman’s altered features the scoundrel I had seen in court!” cried the admiral.
“Who could have dreamed it was the same?” cried Guest. “Poor wretch! his face was like an old well-worn shilling till that fit came on. Here! Mal, old fellow, quick!”
“It is nothing—nothing,” said Brettison faintly as Stratton saved him from a heavy fall. “My encounter last night—a little giddy still. Your arm, my boy; I’m better now. Well; for have I not saved you both—brought you full happiness and joy?”