I looked for a resemblance between him and Paul Edgecumbe, but could find none. Was he, I wondered, in doubt about his brother's death? Had he entered into possession on insufficient proof? Many strange things happened in the East; soldiers had more than once been reported to be dead, and then turned up in a most remarkable way. Had George St. Mabyn, in his desire to become owner of the beautiful old house I had seen, taken his brother's death for granted, on insufficient grounds, and had not troubled about it since?
'Promise me,' said Lorna Bolivick, in her impetuous way, 'that you will never rest until you find this man again! Promise me that you will befriend him!' and she looked eagerly into my eyes as she spoke.
'Of course I will,' I said laughingly.
'No, but that won't do. Promise me that you will look for him as if he were your own brother!'
'That's a pretty large order. But why should you be so interested in this stranger?'
'I never give reasons,' she laughed, 'they are so stupid. But you will promise me, won't you?'
'Of course I will,' I replied.
'That's a bargain, then.'
'When are you leaving this neighbourhood?' asked George St. Mabyn, when presently he was leaving the house.
'To-morrow afternoon,' I replied. 'They are working me pretty hard, I can tell you.'