"There is a hell, we are told," Mr. Caryll reminded him.

"Ay," was the answer, "we are told. But I dursn't risk its
being false where Ostermore is concerned. So I preferred to
wait until I could brew him such a cup of bitterness as no man
ever drank ere he was glad to die." In a quieter,
retrospective voice he continued: "Had we prevailed in the
'15, I might have found a way to punish him that had been
worthy of the crime that calls for it. We did not prevail.
Moreover, I was taken, and transported.

"What think you, Justin, gave me courage to endure the rigors
of the plantations, cunning and energy to escape after five
such years of it as had assuredly killed a stronger man less
strong of purpose? What but the task that was awaiting me?
It imported that I should live and be free to call a reckoning
in full with my Lord Ostermore before I go to my own account.

"Opportunity has gone lame upon this journey. But it has
arrived at last. Unless - " He paused, his voice sank from
the high note of exaltation to which it had soared; it became
charged with dread, as did the fierce eyes with which he raked
his companion's face. "Unless you prove false to the duty
that awaits you. And that I'll not believe! You are your
mother's son, Justin."

"And my father's, too," answered Justin in a thick voice; "and
the Earl of Ostermore is that same father."