“All is safe,” he presently whispered to his fellow-murderer, who had not dared to remain alone with the body, but had come out into the cabin. “There is not a soul about. The folk on the bridge will be looking in any direction except behind them, where we are. And even if they tried to look this way, the night is too dark for them to see anything.”
Soon after this there was lowered, over the side furthest from the mate’s berth, the remains of what had been the steward of the “Merry Maid.” The body was lowered so carefully, too, that not the slightest splash was caused that could have attracted the attention of an unsuspicious person.
A while later the “Merry Maid” arrived in Malta. Here the captain duly reported the sudden and unaccountable disappearance, of his steward. “The poor fellow was eccentric,” he said soberly, and with a great show of sympathy. “He did not drink, but told me that he had once been in a lunatic asylum. The weather was quite clear and calm. He must have had an attack of insanity and jumped overboard. Enemies? Certainly not; he was a general favourite on board.”
And so it came to pass that a verdict of suicide while temporarily insane was made to account for the disappearance of William Trace, and his murderers, poor fools, imagined themselves safe from detection.
CHAPTER VII.
EVIL TIDINGS.
Mrs. Riddell and Miss Cory were sitting in the drawing-room. Both ladies were occupied less fancifully than ladies of fiction generally are. They were darning stockings, and Mrs. Riddell’s spectacles were dimmed with tears, as she held up a neatly finished piece of work, and sighed wistfully, “I wonder if poor Harley will live to wear it again.”
“Live to wear it!” was the optimistic rejoinder. “Of course he will. He’s not particularly ill, though he’s naturally low-spirited. But he will soon be all right, when we are able to infuse a little more hope into his mind than is advisable at present.”
“Do you know, I was sorely tempted to tell him yesterday of all that is being done for him. It seems so cruel to leave the poor fellow in misery.”
“But think how much more dreadful his disappointment will be, if things do not go off so well as we have reason to expect. Far better wait until we hear from Hilton. Then we shall, I trust, have something definite to promise him. Meantime, as you are aware, every effort is being made to trace Hugh Stavanger’s doings from the time of the robbery until the time of his flight. Our chain of evidence, with God’s help, will soon be complete, and when we have effected his deliverance, we will all do our best to make up to your poor lad for some of his sufferings.”