“Bosh! Proved to the satisfaction of the Snowden Dogberries who sat on the coroner’s jury! But there, young man, I have already said more than I ever intended to say to any mortal on that subject; only, you know, the sudden sight of you here on the boat recalled the whole thing to my mind.”
“But, pray tell me what reason you have for supposing——” began Harcourt, but his tormentor cut him short.
“I will tell you, nor any one else, nothing. I will hold my tongue, so help me Heaven, unless——”
“Unless what?” asked Harcourt.
“Unless ‘in the course of human events,’ as Thomas Jefferson said, some innocent man should be charged with that very murder, as may happen, for the verdict of a coroner’s jury is not necessarily and invariably final. In such a case, to save the innocent, I would denounce the guilty.”
“You know the guilty one, then?” faltered Harcourt.
“I have said my last word on this subject, young man, and I am sorry for having said any word about it. It is the first time; it shall be the last, except in the exigency to which I have alluded. You, too, should turn your thoughts to other matters. Exciting subjects are not good for convalescents,” said Cutts, walking away to avoid further discussion of the subject.
Harcourt felt stunned. He dropped back in his chair, scarcely able to ask himself, much less answer to himself, the question, how much did Cutts really know of that night’s tragedy; yet feeling sure of one thing—that the Baltimore broker had no disposition to denounce him.
And between them the subject was never mentioned during the voyage.