Part 28 (2/2)

”One of them is peering over the rail with a very evident air of anxiety. His eye is on Sweet.w.a.ter, who is dancing with impatience. See, he is gesticulating like a monkey, and--By the powers, they are going to let him go aboard!”

Mr. Sutherland, who had been leaning heavily against the window-jamb in the agitation of doubt and suspense which Sweet.w.a.ter's unaccountable conduct had evoked, here crossed to the other side and stole a determined look at Frederick. Was his son personally interested in this attempt of the amateur detective? Did he know whom Sweet.w.a.ter sought, and was he suffering as much or more than himself from the uncertainty and fearful possibilities of the moment? He thought he knew Frederick's face, and that he read dread there, but Frederick had changed so completely since the commission of this crime that even his father could no longer be sure of the correct meaning either of his words or expression.

The torture of the moment continued.

”He climbs like a squirrel,” remarked Dr. Talbot, with a touch of enthusiasm. ”Look at him now--he's on the quarterdeck and will be down in the cabins before you can say Jack Robinson. I warrant they have told him to hurry. Captain Dunlap isn't the man to wait five minutes after the ropes are pulled in.”

”Those two men have shrunk away behind some mast or other,” cried Knapp.

”They are the fellows he's after. But what can they have to do with the murder? Have you ever seen them here about town, Dr. Talbot?”

”Not that I remember; they have a foreign air about them. Look like South Americans.”

”Well, they're going to South America. Sweet.w.a.ter can't stop them. He has barely time to get off the s.h.i.+p himself. There goes the last rope!

Have they forgotten him? They're drawing up the ladder.”

”No: the mate stops them; see, he's calling the fellow. I can hear his voice, can't you? Sweet.w.a.ter's game is up. He'll have to leave in a hurry. What's the rumpus now?”

”Nothing, only they've scattered to look for him; the fox is down in the cabins and won't come up, laughing in his sleeve, no doubt, at keeping the vessel waiting while he hunts up his witness.”

”If it's one of those two men he's laying a trap for he won't snare him in a hurry. They're sneaks, those two, and--Why, the sailors are coming back shaking their heads. I can almost hear from here the captain's oaths.”

”And such a favourable wind for getting out of the harbour! Sweet.w.a.ter, my boy, you are distinguis.h.i.+ng yourself. If your witness don't pan out well you won't hear the last of this in a hurry.”

”It looks as if they meant to sail without waiting to put him ash.o.r.e,”

observed Frederick in a low tone, too carefully modulated not to strike his father as unnatural.

”By jingoes, so it does!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Knapp. ”There go the sails! The pilot's hand is on the wheel, and Dr. Talbot, are you going to let your cunning amateur detective and his important witness slip away from you like this?”

”I cannot help myself,” said the coroner, a little dazed himself at this unexpected chance. ”My voice wouldn't reach them from this place; besides they wouldn't heed me if it did. The s.h.i.+p is already under way and we won't see Sweet.w.a.ter again till the pilot's boat comes back.”

Mr. Sutherland moved from the window and crossed to the door like a man in a dream. Frederick, instantly conscious of his departure, turned to follow him, but presently stopped and addressing Knapp for the first time, observed quietly:

”This is all very exciting, but I think your estimate of this fellow Sweet.w.a.ter is just. He's a busybody and craves notoriety above everything. He had no witness on board, or, if he had, it was an imaginary one. You will see him return quite crestfallen before night, with some trumped-up excuse of mistaken ident.i.ty.”

The shrug which Knapp gave dismissed Sweet.w.a.ter as completely from the affair as if he had never been in it.

”I think I may now regard myself as having this matter in my sole charge,” was his curt remark, as he turned away, while Frederick, with a respectful bow to Dr. Talbot, remarked in leaving:

”I am at your service, Dr. Talbot, if you require me to testify at the inquest in regard to this will. My testimony can all be concentrated into the one sentence, 'I did not expect this bequest, and have no theories to advance in explanation of it.' But it has made me feel myself Mrs. Webb's debtor, and given me a justifiable interest in the inquiry which, I am told, you open to-morrow into the cause and manner of her death. If there is a guilty person in this case, I shall raise no barrier in the way of his conviction.”

And while the coroner's face still showed the embarra.s.sment which this last sentence called up, his mind being now, as ever, fixed on Amabel, Frederick offered his arm to his father, whose condition was not improved by the excitements of the last half-hour, and proceeded to lead him from the building.

Whatever they thought, or however each strove to hide their conclusions from the other, no words pa.s.sed between them till they came in full sight of the sea, on a distant billow of which the n.o.ble-s.h.i.+p bound for the Brazils rode triumphantly on its outward course. Then Mr. Sutherland remarked, with a suggestive glance at the vessel:

”The young man who has found an unexpected pa.s.sage on that vessel will not come back with the pilot.”

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