Marston followed the Servant, who turned up the lights and left him.
The evening papers, unfolded, were lying on the table.
Marston picked up one casually, and glanced along the columns.
Suddenly his eye was arrested by a name, and he read the paragraph carefully. It was headed, ‘A Message from the Sea,’ and ran as follows:
‘This morning, as some fishermen were off the coast of————, one of them picked up a bottle which was floating past them and brought it ashore. On opening it it was found to contain a piece of paper, on which was something written in pencil, of which the following words only are decipherable, the salt water having soaked through a faulty cork and obliterated the remainder:
‘“On board the ‘“The ship is sinking rapidly. I, Gurt am about to die, do solemnly declare tha of September, 18—, I stabbed my cousin, Ra house, kept by a man named Heck I freely make this confession, an
‘The bottle with its contents has been handed to the police, though it is doubtful if any clue will ever be obtained to the meaning of this extraordinary message from the sea.’
Yes, to one man there was a clue.
Edward Marston read each word, and it seemed as though Providence had sent the message to him. His pale facc glowed; his sunken eyes gleamed.
He had Gurth Egerton’s life in his hand.