Part 50 (1/2)

Fortunately a neighbor arrived just at this moment, and this good woman, aided by the squire, soon revived the widow. At the end of ten minutes she sat up in a chair, her face as white as a sheet.

”Tell me--tell me all,” she gasped out.

”There is not much to tell, unfortunately,” returned the squire, smoothly.

”I was up to the islands in company with others, and I found strong evidence that made me believe that Ralph fell over the cliff.”

”Then he was killed!” burst out the neighbor.

”Most likely, Mrs. Corcoran. The cliff is more than a hundred feet high, and the rocks below are sharp.”

”But his body--what of that?” asked Mrs. Corcoran, for Mrs. Nelson was unable to utter a word.

”His body must have been carried off by the current which sweeps around the island, especially during such a breeze as we had recently.”

”It must be true,” cried Mrs. Nelson, bursting into tears. ”I found his fis.h.i.+ng towel, and that was covered with blood. Oh, my poor Ralph!”

She went off into a fit of weeping, and in that state Squire Paget left her to the attention of Mrs. Corcoran. He had expected to go into the details of his search, but, evidently, they were not now needed.

”I guess my plan will work all right,” he said to himself, as he walked home rapidly. ”It's a pity I must hurry matters so, but unless I do that valuable piece of property may slip through my fingers.”

Not for one moment did the squire's conscience trouble him for what he had done. He thought only of the end to be gained--of the money he intended to make.

Of course, he imagined that Ralph was really dead. He would have been furious had he known the real truth.

But an awakening was close at hand. It came on the following day, when the squire was at the post office.

He was standing in a corner looking over the various letters he had received when he heard Henry Bott, the clerk, address a few words to a laboring man who had come in to post a letter.

”Kind of mysterious about Ralph Nelson?” remarked the man, whose name was Fielder.

”It is,” returned Bott.

”Any news of him yet?”

”None, excepting that he fell over the cliff on Three Top Island and his body was washed away.”

”The widow must feel bad about it.”

”Sure.”

”I was going to stop at the cottage, but I must get over to Eastport.”

”There's a letter just came in for Mrs. Nelson from New York,” went on Bott. ”I suppose I might send it to her. It might have some sort of news she might want to hear.”

At these words the squire became more attentive than ever. Who knew but what the letter might refer to the missing papers that the widow had advertised for?

”Did you say you had a letter for Mrs. Nelson?” he asked, stepping to the window.

”Yes.”

”I am going down to the place. I'll take it to her if you wish.”