The old judge did not answer.
“Did the Old Captain have another child? Did the New Captain have a brother—or a sister?”
The judge stood in the open doorway, his face turned toward the downs. I could hardly hear his words when at length he answered.
“That is his son.”
Not understanding, I looked at him and then at the little coffin; and then at him again.
“Whose?”
“The New Captain’s. He never had any brothers nor any sisters.”
“But,” I protested, “I did not know he had a child.”
“Nobody else knows it.”
He drew me outside and locked up the grating with his large, hand-made, iron key.