James took it, and as he looked at it, his crooked lip was set stiffly, lest it should tremble.
“It was in his tent when I went back there—afterwards,” said Callandar.
He took the card back, and put it in his pocket.
“Then it was you——” began James.
“He was my prisoner, sir.”
James walked away again and stood at the window.
Callandar waited, silent.
“I must wish you a good-day, Captain Logie,” he said at last, “I have to leave Holland to-night.”
James followed him down the staircase, and they parted at the outer door. Callandar went away along the street, and James came back slowly up the steep stairs, his hand on the railing of the carved banisters. He could scarcely see his way.
The yellow dog came to meet him when he entered his room, and as his master, still holding the letter, carried it again to the light, he followed. Half-way across the floor he turned to sniff at an old Kilmarnock bonnet that lay by the wainscot near the corner in which he slept.