"You're not the sort of man," said Old Corrie thoughtfully, "to speak, ill behind another's back without good reason. Little lady's uncle must be a bad lot. A man and a woman, you say, foreign looking. They must be the pair that passed my hut early this morning when I was getting up. They didn't stop; she wanted to, I think, but he wouldn't let her. 'Curse you!' I heard him say, 'What are you lagging for? Put life into your miserable limbs; we haven't got far to go.' It seemed to me as if he laid hands on her to drag her along. I came out of the hut, and saw them ahead, the woman walking as if she was dead beat, and the man lugging her on. They never turned to look behind, and I watched till they were out of sight. I'm sorry for the little lady. I'll go up to the house to-day, and judge for myself."
"You may hear something against me, Corrie. Don't believe it."
"I won't, without reason. I make up my mind slow, Master Basil. Perhaps you've got something more to tell me. It won't be thrown away."
Wishing to stand well with Old Corrie, Basil became more communicative, and put the woodman in possession, of the particulars of what had passed between himself and Anthony Bidaud on the previous evening, and also of his interviews with Anthony's brother.
"It looks black," said Old Corrie. "It's a pity you didn't leave him to the alligator. And now, Master Basil, you've something else in your mind. Out with it."
"I came to ask you to do me a great service."
"Give it mouth."
"It may be that poor Annette's father has left some papers with respect to her future which the law might declare valid. If that is so, and her uncle finds them, he will destroy them; it may be to his interest to do so, and in that case he will allow no considerations of right and wrong to stand in his way. The presence of a lawyer may prevent this. Then there is the slanderous talk he is sure to set going against me; I want to clear myself of it. The precise cause of Anthony Bidaud's death should be ascertained and declared by a competent and disinterested person, and I thought of going to Gum Flat and enlisting the services of a lawyer and a doctor, whom I would bring back with me."
"It would be a proper thing to do," said Corrie.
"But I am in a difficulty. I could walk the distance, but I could not get there till to-morrow. Coming and going, four days at least would be wasted, and in that time Annette's uncle could work his own ends without interruption. Now, if I had a horse I could get there this evening, and back to-morrow."