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After that he felt decidedly better, and with the help of a steady ten minutes grind at the dumb-bells, he succeeded in pulling himself together. He had reached this stage in his toilet when a knock came at the door. "Come in, Raffles," said Mr Armstrong, beginning to see some prospect of a shave after all. It was not Raffles, but Dr Brandram, equipped for the road. "I'm off, Armstrong," said he.
Dear Sir: Reporting in the matter of the young man who rescued your daughter, in the recent accident, let me say I have discovered his identity and some important facts concerning him. I take the liberty of thinking that your intention of rewarding him, when found, will be somewhat modified by this information. This man's name is Gabriel Armstrong, age 24.
"Nina Carrington came from the town in California where Mr. Armstrong died. Why was the doctor so afraid of her? The Carrington woman knew something. I lived with Doctor Walker seven years, and I know him well. There are few things he is afraid of. I think he killed Mr. Armstrong out in the west somewhere, that's what I think.
Then, as clearly as I could, I related how, the night before, a shot had roused us; that my niece and I had investigated and found a body; that I did not know who the murdered man was until Mr. Jarvis from the club informed me, and that I knew of no reason why Mr. Arnold Armstrong should steal into his father's house at night. I should have been glad to allow him entree there at any time.
So far there had been no temptation for the violation of that sacred pledge which she had given to Lady Laura Armstrong. His persistence did not amount to much evidently; his ardour was easily checked; he had sworn that night that she should see him, should listen to him, and six weeks had gone by without his having made the faintest attempt to approach her.
The next evening, however, there was a knock at the outside gate; and on its being opened, Adam Armstrong himself entered. "I could not rest, for thinking of the girls," he said, as he entered the house. "The man arrived safely, yesterday morning, after having, with great difficulty, made his way unobserved through the Bairds, who had some fifty or sixty men scattered, all over the hills."
"We are not alone," I whispered. "Some one is over there on the lounge." Sinclair had already bounded across the room. I pressed hurriedly behind him, and together we rounded the screen and came upon the recumbent figure of Mr. Armstrong, asleep on the lounge, with his paper fallen from his hand. "That accounts for the lights being turned out," grumbled Sinclair. "Dutton must have done it."
Hobbie cast a mournful glance on Grace Armstrong, who returned it with a downcast look and a gentle sigh. "Dinna be cast down, bairns," said the grandmother, "we hae gude friends that winna forsake us in adversity.
A similar attack on Baltimore, September 11, was better met, and, although the British routed a force of militia, the attempt to take the city was abandoned. The humiliation of the capture of Washington led to the downfall of Armstrong as Secretary of State, although not until after he had almost ruined another campaign.
Its glory, no doubt, and its glamour, had begun to fade before even the sixteenth century was far spent, and where were now to be found heroes such as the far-famed Johnnie Armstrong of Gilnockie?
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