The mystery on which he had counted had all at once collapsed owing to the death of the person chiefly concerned.
It became Mr. Page’s unenviable duty, on receipt of the above message, to convey the news to Sir Gilbert. Over what passed between the two on that occasion we need not linger.
On arriving at Liverpool, Mr. Winch telegraphed to his employer by which train he might be expected to reach Mapleford. It was as a consequence of this message that he found Sir Gilbert Clare seated in Mr. Page’s private office when, after a preliminary tap at the door, he was bidden to enter.
“Glad to see you back, Winch, and looking so well,” said Mr. Page heartily, as he shook hands with his subordinate. “Of course I know already from your advices the nature of the arrangements you were enabled to make in that matter of Lord Dovercourt, and I congratulate you on your success. Later on we will go through the details one by one. But, sit down. What I want you to do first of all is to furnish me with the whole of the particulars you have been able to obtain confirmatory of the cablegram by which you advised me of the death of Mr. John Alexander.”
Mr. Winch seated himself opposite his employer at the big square writing-table in the centre of the room. Sir Gilbert sat with his back to them and facing the fire. Although he appeared to be immersed in The Times, and betrayed no more interest in what followed than any stranger might have done, the reason that had brought him there was perfectly transparent to Mr. Winch, who could not help saying to himself: “Surely to goodness, Mr. Page does not think me such an innocent as not to be able to see through Sir Gilbert’s little plot!”
Much of what Mr. Winch had to relate will have already been anticipated by the reader. We need only take up his narrative at the point where Alec Clare, on the morning following the receipt of his wife’s letter, stepped on board the Prairie Belle at Milwaukee, in the expectation of landing at Davisville about nine o’clock the same evening. But the Prairie Belle never reached Davisville. When about a dozen miles from that place, and soon after nightfall, one of her boilers exploded. The vessel parted amidships, and five minutes later all that was left of her sank in deep water. The accident happened only about half a mile from the shore, and a number of boats at once put out to the rescue of the survivors, of whom a considerable number were picked up, several of them, however, being so badly injured that they afterwards succumbed. Of those saved John Alexander was not one. The only inference which could be drawn, was that, either, like many among both passengers and crew, he had been killed outright by the explosion, and that his body had gone down with the ship, or else that, even though, perhaps unhurt, he had sunk before help could reach him from the shore. In any case, alive or dead, nothing was seen or heard of him after the explosion, which had happened just eight weeks prior to Mr. Winch’s interview with Mr. Frank Travis.
“I presume,” said Mr. Page, “it is a matter of absolute certainty that Mr. Alexander was really on board the ill-fated vessel at the time of the accident.”
“That was a question I did not fail to put to Mr. Travis. In reply he told me that among the survivors was a person well acquainted with Mr. Alexander, who had been talking to him only a few minutes before the explosion.”
“In that case, I am afraid there is no room left for doubt as to the poor fellow’s fate. A sad end, truly, for any one to come to!—I think that will do for the present, Mr. Winch. We will go into other matters later on.”
“By-the-way, sir, there is one point which I have not yet mentioned. It is this: When Mr. Alexander, some little time prior to his death, entered into partnership with Mr. Travis, he put the sum of fifteen hundred pounds into the business. That amount Mr. Travis desired me to say that he shall be prepared to refund to Mr. Alexander’s heir-at-law after due substantiation of claim and reasonable notice having been given him.”