"I know. Can your father have feigned death to avoid him?"
"Impossible. He did not know Captain Lestrange was coming."
"Well," said Alan slowly, "there was that West Indian letter which agitated him so much. It might have been a warning. However, it is no use theorizing. I'll go to the Occidental Bank, and find out Herbert Beauchamp."
"You won't find that he is my own father, Alan; I am sure of that. He may be a relative. No, no! He is not a murderer! He is dead--quite dead! I don't believe a word of the story."
Alan sighed.
"Time alone can prove its truth or falsehood, Sophy," he said.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
THE ENMITY OF CAPTAIN LESTRANGE
That same evening the Rector was coming in to dine with Alan. The young man was glad that he had asked him, for he was anxious to consult his old friend about the strange tale he had heard, and about the steps which should be taken to prove its truth or falsity. He stayed with Sophy till it was nearly six o'clock. Miss Parsh had not been called into counsel. She was too timid, they thought, and too likely to lose her head. Moreover, Alan felt that she would give the girl overmuch sympathy and make her nervous. So he did all the bracing he could, advised her not to take the old lady into her confidence, and rode home to the Abbey Farm in the cool twilight.
As he passed the Good Samaritan, Mrs. Timber came flying out in a flutter of excitement.