Compton buried his face in his hands and remained silent for some time.

"You couldn't have been more than a child at that time, but perhaps you
may have heard of the mysterious murder of Colonel Despard?"

He looked inquiringly at Brandon, but the latter gave no sign.

[Illustration: "THERE'S SOME MYSTERY ABOUT IT WHICH I CAN'T FATHOM."]

"Perhaps not," he continued--"no: you were too young, of course. Well,
it was in the _Vishnu_, a brig in which the Colonel had embarked
for Manilla. The brig was laden with hogshead staves and box shooks, and
the Colonel went there partly for his health, partly on business, taking
with him his valet Potts."

"What became of his family?" interrupted Brandon.

"He had a son in England at school. His wife had died not long before
this at one of the hill stations, where she had gone for her health.
Grief may have had something to do with the Colonel's voyage, for he was
very much attached to his wife.

"Mails used only to come at long intervals in those days and this one
brought the account not only of the Colonel's fate, but of the trial at
Manilla and the execution of the man that was condemned.

"It was a very mysterious case. In the month of July a boat arrived at
Manilla which carried the crew and one passenger from the brig
_Vishnu_. One of the men, a Malay named Uracao, was in irons, and
he was immediately given up to the authorities."