Andrew Drever opened the book, which was before him, and passed it to Mr. Duke, saying: "You will observe, sir, that the last date written here is January, 1831. Thirteen years ago."
"Thirteen years ago!" exclaimed Mr. Duke, turning over the pages. "Ah! now I begin to see your application. Go on, Halcro."
I then spoke of finding the charts, and described how the Pilgrim had touched at Kirkwall.
"She called at Kirkwall to put me ashore for hospital," interposed Peter Brown.
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Duke. "And are you going to say that this Pilgrim was the vessel in which Mr. Quendale sailed for Copenhagen?"
"Copenhagen was the port she sailed for--calling at Akureyri, in Iceland," quietly explained the dominie. "Go on, Halcro."
I then described the captain's room, and told of the man I had seen lying dead in the sleeping bunk. I spoke of the diamond ring.
"Have you got that ring?" asked the magistrate.
"Yes," I said, feeling in my waistcoat pocket and producing it from the folds of a piece of muslin. I handed it to the schoolmaster, whom I had not told about it before. He examined the sparkling stones and handed it on to Mr. Duke. I saw Mr. Duke eyeing it curiously. As he looked at the inner circle of gold a light came to his eyes.
"Ah, hello!" said he. "There are some letters engraved here. Can you read them, dominie? The characters are foreign. It looks like German or Russian."