“For the moment he wants food and a lamp to light his hiding-place after dark.  But before all else, he begs you, Uncle Ben, to let him come and see you quite alone.  Then he told us to be gone if we were honest friends.  It is left in this way.  If you will see him, he will come any hour you mention after midnight.  But first you must give your written oath before God that you will have nobody with you, and that you will neither set a trap for him nor seek to detain him.  His hope is that you will give him means and clothes, so that he may leave England safely and get to Uncle Albert in Italy.  He made us swear not to say where we had found him, and then he indicated a spot where I was to bring your answer in writing before dark.  I am to leave a letter at that spot as soon as I can, and go away at once, and he will come and find your directions.”

Mr. Redmayne nodded.

“And at the same time you had better take the poor wretch some food and drink and the lamp.  How he has lived for the last six months I cannot understand.”

“He has been in France—­so he says.”

Bendigo did not take long to determine a course of action and Brendon approved his decisions.

“In the first place,” declared Robert Redmayne’s brother, “the man must be mad, whatever appears to the contrary.  This story points to that, and seeing he is still free and has succeeded in existing and avoiding the police in two countries, one can only say that with his madness he has developed amazing cunning too.  But, as Jenny reports, he’s on his beam ends at last.  He knows this house and he knows the way to it.  So I’ll do this.

“I’ll agree to see him to-night—­or rather to-morrow morning.  I’ll bid him come at one o’clock, and he shall find the door open and a light in the hall.  He can walk straight in and mount up to me in the tower, and I’ll swear the needful oath that he shall see nobody else and be free to go again when he pleases.  That will calm him down and give me a chance to study him and try and see where we stand.  We might trap him, of course, but I can’t lie even to a lunatic.”

“There’s no reason why you should,” said Brendon.  “If you feel no personal fear of the man, then you can see him as you suggest.  You understand, however, there must be no question of helping him to evade the law, as he wishes?”

Bendigo nodded.

“I suppose not.  I can’t turn him on to my brother, Albert, anyway.  Albert’s a weak, nervous sort of man and he’d have a fit if he thought Robert was coming to seek asylum with him.”

“The State must provide his asylum,” said Mark.  “His future is no longer any question for his relations.  The best that we can hope is that he may soon be in a position of security, both for himself and other people.  You will do well to see him, give him succour, and hear what he has to say.  After that, Mr. Redmayne, if I may advise, you will leave the rest to me.”