It was just before dawn of the morning that the Governor knocked at the
door of the house by Long Neck Billabong. The door opened at once, and
he entered without a word.

He and Old Roses stood face to face. His countenance was drawn and worn,
the other's cold and calm. "Tom, Tom," Lord Malice said, "we thought you
were dead--"

"That is, Edward, having left me to my fate in Burmah--you were only half
a mile away with a column of stout soldiers and hillmen--you waited till
my death was reported, and seemed assured, and then came on to England:
to take the title, just vacant by our father's death, and to marry
my intended wife, who, God knows, appeared to have little care which
brother it was! You got both. I was long a prisoner. When I got free,
I learned all; I bided my time. I was waiting till you had a child.
Twelve years have gone: you have no child. But I shall spare you awhile
longer. If your wife should die, or you should yet have a child, I shall
return."

The Governor lifted his head wearily from the table where he now sat.
"Tom," he said in a low, heavy voice, "I was always something of a
scoundrel, but I've repented of that thing every day of my life since.
It has been knives--knives all the way. I am glad--I can't tell you how
glad--that you are alive."

He stretched out his hand with a motion of great relief. "I was afraid
you were going to speak to-night--to tell all, even though I was your
brother. You spared me for the sake--"

"For the sake of the family name," the other interjected stonily.