Further aft, in the waist, his back against the weather bulwark, Silas the Yankee overhauled frayed scraps from the London Advertiser. "A coroner's inquest held on 28 October at Margate disclosed particulars, which we summarize, of a peculiarly shocking affair occurring on board the barge Polly Phemus [sic!]. The vessel was the property of T. Fright, licensed victualer at the "Fox under the Hill" tavern by the Adelphi, who appeared in court to make claim, contra the claimants who testified that they found her derelict.
"Residents of Margate to whom her cargo had been consigned, were astonished to hear on the 22nd inst. that the barge, six days overdue at that port, was reported to be lying at anchor some four miles to the westward off Epple Bay, in the parish of Birchington. Proceeding thither by road they learned, from laborers employed upon the farm adjacent to Epple Bay, that the barge's dinghy was gone from her stern, although nobody had been observed to come ashore. For some days no smoke had been seen to rise from the cabin funnel, nor had the vessel shown any sign of life.
"Such unusual circumstances being communicated to the Vicar as nearest Justice of the Peace, he caused a visit to be paid to the Polly Phemus. On the cabin floor lay the body, stabbed to the heart, of the master of the barge, identified by the owner as his brother James Fright. In the bunk, attired in a nightdress, lay the mortal remains of the man's wife, also stabbed to death, but under circumstances of awful ferocity. Indeed, the crime appears to be the deed of a maniac, indifferent to the woman's purse containing two sovereigns and some silver, her silver watch, and her gold wedding ring. The medical evidence pointed to an interval of about six days between the date of the crime and that of the discovery. There were no signs of a struggle, but the fact that the couple had been drinking heavily was attested by the discovery of no less than six empty gin bottles under the cabin table. A sheath knife was found crusted, blade and hilt, with dried blood. But the most sinister aspect of this affair remains to be told.
"The cabin was found locked from the outside, and this fact becomes of dreadful significance because the fore hatch was discovered to have been left wide open. The fore compartment was used as a store-room, but also occupied by the only son of the deceased couple, by name Bill Fright. That he had left in haste was evidenced by the finding in his spare clothes of six shillings in silver and elevenpence three-farthings in bronze, apparently forgotten when, after murdering both his parents, he locked their bodies in the cabin, and fled from the place in the dinghy. No trace of him or of the boat is as yet reported; but the coroner's jury gave their verdict against him of willful murder, a warrant has been issued for his apprehension, and the police are understood to have a strong clue to his present whereabouts.
"He is described as follows: age 18 to 19, height 5 ft. 7 in., build slight but strong, fair hair, blue eyes, ruddy complexion, features those of a pug. Usual dress a ragged blue jersey and slacks, black silk neckcloth, sea boots. The Joseph Fright recently executed at Tyburn was an uncle of this atrocious young scoundrel. Verb. sap."
Silas looked up from his reading and stared at Bill with a malicious grin. "I guess," so ran his thought, "as he's the poor orphan right enough. Got his Uncle Joseph hanged, and knifed his beloved parents! He don't brag none of his past life, or talk about his last ship either, and now it comes to mind as I caught him blubbering—seems he feels kinder lonesome!
"Off Margate, eh? So his boat drifts up the flood twenty or thirty mile until he's off the Nore and fouls our bows, and comes aboard white as a ghost, his hands all shaking. Say! That's why he coiled them halliards down to hide the trembling. Waal!
"Calls himself Willie Muggins!
"All the same, I hain't due to be seen giving him away, and him a shipmate—sort of. The fellers wouldn't stand for that. Shucks! And yet I dunno. The news might be dragged out of me. And there's the mate leaning on the poop rail, curious as monkeys—sees me look sideways trying to hide the paper, sort o' furtive, acting mysterious. What if I ups and axes him!"
Silas went aft, ostentatiously hiding something in his trousers pocket, looking worried, anxious, as he approached the mate and asked his permission to speak.