“Was that before Wagram was born?”
“No; after. Not that it made any difference either way, because, of course, the marriage was void.”
“You have no doubt whatever that he was her real husband?”
“She had no doubt. Poor thing! it killed her.”
“And what became of the man?”
“I made it worth his while to leave the country, and on the way to New Zealand or Australia—I forget which—he was washed overboard, and never seen again. I was justified in believing him drowned, if only that he never troubled me again, which he would certainly have done otherwise.”
“And he wasn’t?”
“So he says. Read this,” handing him the newspaper cutting narrating the rescue of the three castaways.
“And is this the man—Develin Hunt?”
The Squire nodded. “Funny, isn’t it, that he should reappear in the same way as he went? Well, he has been here to blackmail me.” And he told of the recent visitor and the proposed terms.