‘No, it would be before your time. A terrible business it was. The Numidian was a big boat, big for those times, I mean. She was running from Glasgow to Quebec, and she struck a berg. Went down off the banks in a few minutes. Nearly every soul on board was lost, and Tom Dale was one of them. A sudden call, it was.’
‘A terrible affair. I do remember hearing of it.’
‘Ay, no doubt. A sudden call for Tom, that it was.’
‘You said he nearly broke a good woman’s heart, Mr Clayton?’
‘Ay, and so he did. Little Ethel Osborne was fool enough to marry him. And it wasn’t long till she was sorry for it. They say she saw him drunk for the first time the night after the wedding. But it wasn’t the last, not by a long chalk. He was a bad boy all through, was Tom.’
‘Then his death must have been something of a release to her?’
‘Yes, poor soul. But she had more sense the second time.’
‘The second time?’
‘Ay, she did what she ought to have done at the start—married young William Ponson.’
‘Never neglect the smallest clue!’ thought Tanner triumphantly, as he recalled his doubt of the wisdom of following up the photograph. The connection between Douglas and Sir William was strengthening. Doubtless he was on the right track at last, and maybe if he questioned him skilfully, this old man would let something drop which would give away the secret.