George Jernam took from his waistcoat pocket a tiny parcel, and unfolding the paper covering, revealed a gold coin—the bent Brazilian coin—which he placed in the captain's hands.
"Why! heaven have mercy on us!" cried Joseph Duncombe, "if that isn't the ghost's money!"
There was astonishment plainly depicted on his countenance; but no look of guilt. George Jernam watched his face as he contemplated the token, and saw that it was not the face of a guilty man.
"Oh, captain, captain!" he exclaimed, remorsefully, "if I have suspected you all this time for nothing?"
"Suspected me of what?"
"Of being concerned, more or less, in my brother's murder. That piece of gold which you now hold in your hand was a farewell token, given by me to him; you may see my initials scratched upon it. I found it in your desk."
"And therefore suspected that I was the aider and abettor of thieves and murderers!" exclaimed the captain of the "Vixen." "George Jernam, I am ashamed of you."
There was a depth of reproach in the words, common-place though they were.
George Jernam covered his face with his hands, and sat with bent head before the man he had so cruelly wronged.
"If I was a proud man," said Joseph Duncombe, "I shouldn't stoop to make any explanation to you. But as I am not a proud man, and as you are my daughter's husband, I'll tell you how that bit of gold came into my keeping; and when I've told you my story, I'll bring witnesses to prove that it's true. Yes, George, I'll not ask you to believe my word; for how can you take the word of a man you have thought base enough to be the accomplice of a murderer? Oh, George, it was too cruel—too cruel!"