stepped forward and laid his hand on Sir Duke's shoulder. "Duke, you
want to pick up the threads where they were dropped. You dropped them.
Ask me nothing about the ends that Emily Dorset held. I conspire no
more. But go you and learn your fate. If one remembers, why should the
other forget?"

Sir Duke's light heart and eager faith came back with a rush. "I'll
start for England at once. I'll know the worst or the best of it before
three months are out." The Honourable's slow placidity turned.

"Three months.--Yes, you may do it in that time. Better go from Victoria
to San Francisco and then overland. You'll not forget about my hunting
traps, and--oh, certainly, Gordineer; come in."

"Say," said Gordineer. "I don't want to disturb the meeting, but Shon's
in chancery somehow; breathing like a white pine, and thrashing about!
He's red-hot with fever."

Before he had time to say more, Sir Duke seized the candle and entered
the room. Shon was moving uneasily and suppressing the groans that shook
him. "Shon, old friend, what is it?"

"It's the pain here, Lawless," laying his hand on his chest.

After a moment Sir Duke said, "Pneumonia!"

From that instant thoughts of himself were sunk in the care and thought
of the man who in the heart of Queensland had been mate and friend and
brother to him. He did not start for England the next day, nor for many
a day.