"I don't know," answered the General, impatiently; "the thing is beyond my capacity. I've known this young blackguard for years. Only slightly, of course, but I would have sworn to him anywhere. Gilbert, however, tells me an extraordinary story. He says our prisoner is a thoroughly honest fellow, by the name of Manton. He gave me a minute history of the man, who was formerly at Scarthoe Head. I have ordered the adjutant from Scarthoe to report himself here to-morrow. We can then get to the bottom of this extraordinary tangle."
"But," protested Sir Robert, "these letters must be explained; and you have had this man watched for months."
"Precisely; that complicates matters enormously."
"Was Treves guilty of the crimes laid against him, or was this man guilty?" inquired Sir Robert.
The General shook his head in bewilderment.
"Don't ask me; I don't know," he said, "to-morrow will settle everything."
The night that followed was the longest that John had ever spent. What if by some awful mischance Captain Gilbert disowned him entirely? However, he could not think that of Gilbert. He was prepared to swear by the Captain's honesty.
A police officer called him early next morning. He dressed and was served with a satisfactory breakfast. A morning newspaper was brought to him, but at ten o'clock he was peremptorily summoned to present himself in Sir Robert's room. Under escort he made his way along various passages. The door was opened and he stepped into the room and stood at attention.
Sir Robert was not present. General Whiston stood at the window, and near him was a sleek-looking, smooth-haired, clean shaven man in a morning coat, well cut trousers and patent leather boots. John could feel the stranger's eyes steadily upon him.
Then Whiston turned from the window.