That was clear to both.
“You,” said the captain, turning to the younger brother, “are a little in love; ain’t you?”
“Not a little, Captain Jorgan.”
“Much or little, you’re sort preoccupied; ain’t you?”
It was impossible to be denied.
“And a sort preoccupied man ain’t good at quick business, is he?” said the captain.
Equally clear on all sides.
“Now,” said the captain, “I ain’t in love myself, and I’ve made many a smart run across the ocean, and I should like to carry on and go ahead with this affair of yours, and make a run slick through it. Shall I try? Will you hand it over to me?”
They were both delighted to do so, and thanked him heartily.
“Good,” said the captain, taking out his watch. “This is half-past eight a.m., Friday morning. I’ll jot that down, and we’ll compute how many hours we’ve been out when we run into your mother’s post-office. There! The entry’s made, and now we go ahead.”
They went ahead so well that before the Barnstaple lawyer’s office was open next morning, the captain was sitting whistling on the step of the door, waiting for the clerk to come down the street with his key and open it. But instead of the clerk there came the master, with whom the captain fraternised on the spot to an extent that utterly confounded him.
As he personally knew both Hugh and Alfred, there was no difficulty in obtaining immediate access to such of the father’s papers as were in his keeping. These were chiefly old letters and cash accounts; from which the captain, with a shrewdness and despatch that left the lawyer far behind, established with perfect clearness, by noon, the following particulars:-
That one Lawrence Clissold had borrowed of the deceased, at a time when he was a thriving young tradesman in the town of Barnstaple, the sum of five hundred pounds. That he had borrowed it on the written statement that it was to be laid out in furtherance of a speculation which he expected would raise him to independence; he being, at the time of writing that letter, no more than a clerk in the house of Dringworth Brothers, America Square, London. That the money was borrowed for a stipulated period; but that, when the term was out, the aforesaid speculation failed, and Clissold was without means of repayment. That, hereupon, he had written to his creditor, in no very persuasive terms, vaguely requesting further time. That the creditor had refused this concession, declaring that he could not afford delay. That Clissold then paid the debt, accompanying the remittance of the money with an angry letter describing it as having been advanced by a relative to save him from ruin. That, in acknowlodging the receipt, Raybrock had cautioned Clissold to seek to borrow money of him no more, as he would never so risk money again.
Before the lawyer the captain said never a word in reference to these discoveries. But when the papers had been put back in their box, and he and his two companions were well out of the office, his right leg suffered for it, and he said, -
“So far this run’s begun with a fair wind and a prosperous; for don’t you see that all this agrees with that dutiful trust in his father maintained by the slow member of the Raybrock family?”
Whether the brothers had seen it before or no, they saw it now. Not that the captain gave them much time to contemplate the state of things at their ease, for he instantly whipped them into a chaise again, and bore them off to Steepways. Although the afternoon was but just beginning to decline when they reached it, and it was broad day-light, still they had no difficulty, by dint of muffing the returned sailor up, and ascending the village rather than descending it, in reaching Tregarthen’s cottage unobserved. Kitty was not visible, and they surprised Tregarthen sitting writing in the small bay-window of his little room.
“Sir,” said the captain, instantly shaking hands with him, pen and all, “I’m glad to see you, sir. How do you do, sir? I told you you’d think better of me by-and-by, and I congratulate you on going to do it.”
Here the captain’s eye fell on Tom Pettifer Ho, engaged in preparing some cookery at the fire.
“That critter,” said the captain, smiting his leg, “is a born steward, and never ought to have been in any other way of life. Stop where you are, Tom, and make yourself useful. Now, Tregarthen, I’m going to try a chair.”
Accordingly the captain drew one close to him, and went on:-
“This loving member of the Raybrock family you know, sir. This slow member of the same family you don’t know, sir. Wa’al, these two are brothers,—fact! Hugh’s come to life again, and here he stands. Now see here, my friend! You don’t want to be told that he was cast away, but you do want to be told (for there’s a purpose in it) that he was cast away with another man. That man by name was Lawrence Clissold.”
At the mention of this name Tregarthen started and changed colour. “What’s the matter?” said the captain.
“He was a fellow-clerk of mine thirty—five-and-thirty—years ago.”
“True,” said the captain, immediately catching at the clew: “Dringworth Brothers, America Square, London City.”
The other started again, nodded, and said, “That was the house.”
“Now,” pursued the captain, “between those two men cast away there arose a mystery concerning the round sum of five hundred pound.”
Again Tregarthen started, changing colour. Again the captain said, “What’s the matter?”
As Tregarthen only answered, “Please to go on,” the captain recounted, very tersely and plainly, the nature of Clissold’s wanderings on the barren island, as he had condensed them in his mind from the seafaring man. Tregarthen became greatly agitated during this recital, and at length exclaimed, -
“Clissold was the man who ruined me! I have suspected it for many a long year, and now I know it.”
“And how,” said the captain, drawing his chair still closer to Tregarthen, and clapping his hand upon his shoulder,—”how may you know it?”
