drove him to believe. He sifted the grain from the chaff, doubtfully
guided by his own passion, and saw the Italian's wife free. But he
could not see her false. He scorned the baleful picture that
Giuseppe had painted and guessed that his purpose was to cut the
ground from under Jenny's feet and accuse her of those identical
crimes that he himself had committed. His attitude to Doria was
affirmed, and from that hour he believed, with Peter Ganns, that the
Italian knew the purposes of the unknown and was assisting him to
achieve them. But again his spirit picked and chose. He did not
remember how Ganns also, though in more temperate words than
Doria's, had warned him for the present to put no trust even in
Jenny. He trusted her as he trusted himself; and that also meant
distrusting her husband.

He considered now his own course of action and presently proceeded
to the region in which Robert Redmayne had been most frequently
reported. Certain appearances were chronicled and, before Ganns
returned to England, the theory had been accepted that the fugitive
hid and dwelt aloft in some fastness with the charcoal burners. Now
Brendon felt the need to probe this opinion and determined, if
possible, to find the lair of the red man.

Not single-handed did he expect to do so. His purpose henceforth was
to watch Doria unseen and so discover whom he served. Thus he would
kill two birds with one stone and simplify action for Peter Ganns
when he returned.

Brendon climbed steadily upward and presently sat down to rest upon
a little, lofty plateau where, in the mountain scrub, grew lilies
of the valley and white sun-rose. Idly he sat and smoked, marked the