“Dead! Drowned!” cried Virginia in horror.
“Yes, my dear, drowned!” said Anna, with a small air of triumph.
“Oh!” cried Virginia; and added, “Poor, poor old man!”
“He was following his wife and that dreadful Captain Gibbs—it's quite settled now that she ran off with him; he tracked them half across the state, it seems.”
“But how did he lose his life?” asked Virginia.
“It seems he attempted to ford a dangerously swollen stream and was swept away; no one has the full particulars yet, but I saw Mr. Benson, and he says there is no doubt but that Mr. Tucker is dead.”
“Poor old man!” repeated Virginia pityingly.
“Well!” said Anna, “Captain Gibbs will never dare to show his face here again. They say they will tar and feather him if he does; and I think myself that would be none too good for him.”
Virginia looked inquiringly at her. She wondered if she had come merely to tell her this.
“Did Stephen ever say anything to you about his and Bush's business with Mr. Tucker—the distillery, I mean?” asked Anna.