'Very well, sir, I'll not forget,' the son responded, as he jumped into a boat alongside; and, having returned to his yacht, he bore up for Clovelly.
To what part of the Continent that laden vessel steered, or where the merchant passed the remainder of his days, has never transpired. The manner of his life, the manner of his death, are unknown. That he never returned to England is certain; and it is to be hoped that solitude and reflection gave opportunity for some improvement in a character which the love of money had so thoroughly perverted.
The ship in which he escaped could not have been out of sight many hours, when the Dutchman, as the sailors called her, which had graced the Pool aforetime, cast anchor in her old quarters. The divers had brought to the light the so-called bales of broadcloth, on which a large insurance had been effected, but which in reality contained narrow lengths of a coarse material, measuring the quantity specified; and it transpired, in course of time, that similar packages had more than once been employed for fraudulent purposes by the Appledore merchant.
A warrant was immediately obtained for his apprehension; but, to the dismay of the outwitted detectives, the culprit was nowhere to be found. A large reward was offered for his apprehension, but his hiding-place was never revealed, and probably was unknown to any save the members of his own family.
That family continued for some years to take a leading position in the little seaport and neighbourhood; but it gradually dwindled and became comparatively obscure. Its wealth was squandered; its houses and lands were mortgaged; its character sank lower and lower, and no one now remains to perpetuate the name, even, of that ancient and notable house.
CHAPTER XVI.
A heart that has tasted life's bitter waters is able to administer suitable solace to an afflicted soul; and hence it was that Grace Lloyd approved herself such an angel of mercy to Mary Stauncy when the news of the captain's execution reached the village. 'I'll step in,' she said to herself, 'before Mary hears of it from rougher tongues, and it may be that a little tender womanly comfort will prove a balm to her wounded spirit.'
On entering the house, she found her seated in the captain's arm-chair, with her children on 'crickets' beside her, reposing their heads on her lap, and looking up occasionally for a smile, which played mechanically for a moment around her lips, and then disappeared before a settled sadness, which had already given a new impression to her features. Cautiously and kindly did the good woman reveal to her the melancholy fact that she was a widow, and endeavoured to break the force of the shock by referring to her own trying experiences when left with six little ones to struggle for life. To her great surprise no very extraordinary emotion was manifested. The heart of the bereaved one seemed stunned; and when Grace bade her good-night, it was with the reflection, 'Would that she had wept! the strands of that fine mind will begin to unravel, unless she is wonderfully supported from above.'
And truly her vigorous nature, strengthened by a Divine hand, bore up marvellously. It is true she became, as people were pleased to call her, 'the melancholy widow,' so fixed and habitual was her dejection, so silent and reserved her demeanour; but every one respected as well as pitied her, and no one thought of treating her less considerately because of the stigma of the captain's end. In all probability she would have recovered something of her former cheerfulness in time, if the clouds had not returned again after the rain, and the sorrows of bereavement, like chasing billows, swept over her head once more. Her children sickened and died. Scarce three months had elapsed from the time of her great trouble, when the youngest fair one was taken away, and ten days after her sister followed her.