“Brandon, Edith.” It was his sister.
“Do you find any of the names?” asked the clerk, seeing Brandon turn his head.
“Yes,” said Brandon; “this is one,” and he pointed to the last name. “But I see a mark opposite that name. What is it? ‘B’ and ‘A.’ What is the meaning?” “Is that party a relative of yours?”
“No,” said Brandon.
“You don’t mind hearing something horrible, then?”
“No.”
The clerk drew a long breath.
“Well, Sir, those letters were written by the late superintendent. The poor man is now a lunatic. He was here last year.
“You see this is how it was: The ship-fever broke out. The number of sick was awful, and there were no preparations for them here. The disease in some respects was worse than cholera, and there was nothing but confusion. Very many died from lack of nursing. But the worst feature of the whole thing was the hurried burials.
“I was not here last year, and all who were here then have left. But I’ve heard enough to make me sick with horror. You perhaps are aware that in this ship-fever there sometimes occurs a total loss of sense, which is apt to be mistaken for death?”