“We saw him,” said Jenny, “about two miles down the coast, sitting not fifty yards from the sea, and he, of course, saw us; but he had no glasses and could not recognize me, as we were more than half a mile from shore.  Then Giuseppe suggested landing and so approaching him.  The thing was to let me reach him, if possible.  I felt no fear of him—­excepting the fear that, knowing how he had ruined my life, he might shrink from facing me.

“We ran by, as though we had not observed him; then, getting round a little bluff, so that we were hidden, we went ashore, made fast the boat, and regularly stalked him.  There was no mistake.  I had, of course, recognized Uncle Robert through the glasses; and now Doria went first and crept along, with me behind him, until we had reached to within twenty-five yards.  The poor wretch saw us then and leaped up, but it was too late and Giuseppe reached him in a moment and explained that I came as a friend.  Doria was prepared to detain him if he endeavoured to escape, but he did not.  Robert Redmayne is worn out.  He has been through terrible times.  He shrank at first and nearly collapsed when I came to him.  He went on his knees to me.  But I was patient and made him understand that I had not come as an enemy.”

“Is he sane?” asked Bendigo.

“He appears to be sane,” she answered.  “He made no mention of the past and neither spoke of his crime nor of what he has been doing since; but he has altered.  He seems a ghost of his former self; his voice has changed from a boom into a whisper; his eyes are haunted.  He is thin and full of terror.  He made me send Doria out of earshot and then told me that he had only come here to see you.  He has been here some days, hidden in one of the caves down the coast westward.  He wouldn’t tell me where, but no doubt it is near where we found him.  He is ragged and wounded.  One of his hands ought to be attended to.”

“And still you say he behaved like a sane man, Mrs. Pendean?” asked Brendon.

“Yes—­except for what seemed an insane fear.  And yet fear was natural enough under the circumstances.  He feels, poor creature, that he has reached the end of his tether; and even if he is insane and will escape the extreme penalty, he doesn’t know that himself.  I implored him to come with me in the boat and see Uncle Bendigo and trust to the mercy of his fellow men.  I didn’t feel a traitor in asking him to do this; for I imagine, though seemingly sane now, he must in reality be mad, since only madness could explain the past, and he will be judged accordingly.  But he is very suspicious.  He thanked me and grovelled horribly to me; but he would not trust either me or Doria, or think of entering the boat.  He is all nerves and soon began to fear we were planning an ambush, or otherwise endangering his freedom.

“I asked him, then, to tell me what he wished and how I could help him.  He considered and said that if Uncle Bendigo would see him quite alone and swear, before God, not to hinder his departure in any way after they had met, he would come to ‘Crow’s Nest’ to-night after the household was asleep.