"But they may say a good deal at headquarters if he carries his story there!"
"I had to risk that. But he is so entirely in the wrong, and so clearly aware of it, I don't think he will venture to say anything. I have three cases of diabolical cruelty against him, besides stealing and law-breaking generally."
Stanley watched him with eyes of admiration. To him the man's strength was ever a source of delight, now that his unsociable ways were no longer a puzzle.
"We had a scientific man here yesterday to view the ruins," he continued, as Carew still lingered while he lit his pipe. "He has a remarkable theory for divining corpses by the gold ornaments buried on them. He thinks there are probably several in the temple, deeper than anyone has yet dug."
Carew did not look very interested. His eyes had still the retrospective, pained expression that had come into them instantly, when he grasped the import of Stanley's sad tidings.
"Where did he come from?" he asked, half turning away.
"I don't know. He was only here for a few hours. We gave him some tea, and he left us some interesting papers, if you would care to have them. He seemed rather interested in you!..." and Stanley looked keenly into his face.
"In what way?" Carew pulled hard at his beloved pipe and spoke with studied carelessness.
"Your name cropped up about something, and he wanted to know if you were a Fourtenay-Carew."
The officer started very slightly, but made no comment, and Stanley added, "He particularly wanted to know if you were a Devonshire man. I said you were."