CHAPTER XV.
A LETTER.
Blair would gladly have chosen another time and place for the composition of the difficult letter he was called on to write, but he felt compelled to fulfil his promise at once.

The men passed by him in silence, save the single remark of Brimstone, "Give my love to your _sweet_ mother," delivered in an insulting tone, and with a laugh more repulsive than the hiss of a snake.
Blair glanced anxiously in the direction where Derry had disappeared, almost fearing to see that clenched hand coming forth to do its threatened work of vengeance.

But Derry was already far away, and Brimstone joined his mess-mates without receiving a word or sign of rebuke.
Blair took up his pen with a silent prayer that it might be guided by Him without whose aid vain are the most eloquent words of the wisest counsellor.

His letter was as follows: "DEAR -- -- I don't know your name, but your father is my friend, and of course I feel interested in you for his sake.

He has been very kind to me, and it is a great pleasure to me to do any thing for him.