She caught her breath and wept bitterly.
“In my own heart,” said I, touched by her dreadful misery, “I believe you guiltless. I am sure you are so now that we have discovered that Mrs. Sheringham is on board. Will you answer a question?”
“Yes,” she sobbed.
“You know that Sheringham was stabbed to the heart with a dagger?”
“Yes.”
“It bears this inscription: ‘Charles Winthrop Sheringham to Leonora Dunbar.’ Was that dagger in your possession in this ship?”
“No. Mr. Sheringham gave it to me. There was no such inscription as you name upon it. I left it behind when I came away. I swear before my God I speak the truth!”
Her voice was broken with sobs; she spoke with deepest agitation. Her manner convinced me it was as she represented.
I said, “Come with me and see the woman and tell me if she is Mrs. Sheringham.”