Have I your permission to lead these men? They would not go without me."

"I know that, I know that, Hume. I can't say no. Go, and good luck go
with you."

Here the manly old factor turned away his head. He knew that Hume had
done right. He knew the possible sacrifice this man was making of all his
hopes, of his very life; and his sound Scotch heart appreciated the act
to the full. But he did not know all. He did not know that Jaspar Hume
was starting to search for the man who had robbed him of youth and hope
and genius and home.

"Here is a letter that the wife has written to her husband on the chance
of his getting it. You will take it with you, Hume. And the other she
wrote to me--shall I keep it?" He held out his hand.

"No, sir, I will keep it, if you will allow me. It is my commission, you
know." The shadow of a smile hovered about Hume's lips.

The factor smiled kindly as he replied: "Ah, yes, your
commission--Captain Jaspar Hume of--of what?" Just then the door opened
and there entered the four men who had sat before the sub-factor's fire
the night before. They were dressed in white blanket costumes from head
to foot, white woollen capotes covering the grey fur caps they wore.
Jaspar Hume ran his eye over them and then answered the factor's
question: "Of the White Guard, sir."

"Good," was the reply. "Men, you are going on a relief expedition. There
will be danger. You need a good leader. You have one in Captain Hume."