“Not Aleck Blair. But the boy.”
“How so?”
“Didn’t you know there was the same strain in young Wilfrid Blair, as there was in old Captain Hogg?”
“Hogg’s oldest sister was the grandmother of this young feller’s mother, wasn’t she?” put in Elder Dennett.
“That’s right. Wilfrid Blair’s great grandmother.”
“And a bad ’un, too, I guess,” continued the Elder relishingly.
“Don’t you say it!” cried the old seaman. “The curse of the blood was on her. Strange she was, and beautiful, so my mother used to tell me; but not bad. She came in at Lonesome Cove, too.”
“Drowned at sea?” asked Kent.
“They never knew. One day she was gone; the next night her body came in. They said in the countryside that she had the gift of second sight, and foretold her own death.”
“Hum-m,” mused Kent. “And now the Blairs have changed the name of the place. No wonder.”