“Well, sir, it’s curious because I never saw a hand with three fingers on before; but I’ve heard mother say that Brother James, you know, sir, him as is a cripple, when his mother died she had a seal round her neck with only three fingers.”
“God bless me, Evan, that is very curious, very,” Frank said, very interested. “If this should only turn out as I think, by Jove, Katie, it would put that little blackguard’s nose out of joint, and no mistake.”
“What do you mean, Frank? I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I will tell you, dear. Let me see, Evan, how old is James now?”
“He’s rather better than twenty, sir.”
“Just so, Katie. Of course it may not be so, but if it is not it’s a curious coincidence. You’ve heard me say that Captain Bradshaw had a daughter who married and ran away from home, and that uncle never heard of her till he heard she was dead, and had died in great want.”
“Yes; I remember, Frank.”
“Well, Katie, as nearly as I can tell that is about twenty-one years ago. Now it is really possible that this poor woman who died at the Holls was her, and that this is her son, whom Captain Bradshaw has never known was alive. A three-fingered hand is not a common crest. I will write to Prescott at once, and ask him to go into the affair. Oh Katie, if it should turn out so, it will be glorious! Of course my uncle will leave him a part anyhow of his estate. By Jove I can forgive uncle having sent back my letter unanswered, if it is the means of finding his grandson and doing Fred Bingham out of part of the fortune.”