The captain’s foolish insinuation angered me, and I felt myself blushing furiously, but I said nothing.
“It is a sad story,” he went on. “I persuaded the girl to give me her confidence. It seems that her father, a gentleman of good family, was a friend of Lord Selkirk. Some months ago he lost every shilling he had in the world through unwise speculation, and the shock killed him. On his deathbed he sent for Selkirk, and begged him to care for his daughter, who would be left quite alone in the world. The old rascal persuaded the father that the girl could not do better than go out to the Canadas and marry the factor of Fort Royal—he had received Hawke’s application for a wife at about this time. The result was that Flora yielded and consented—I daresay there was no way out of it—and Selkirk took advantage of the opportunity to send these important letters with her; he knew she was the last person that would be suspected of having them. This much may be put in Selkirk’s favor: he visited Canada some years ago, and took a fancy to Hawke.”
“The factor is a gentleman born,” said I, “but he is past fifty. And think of the life! It is a sad pity for the girl.”
“She knows what is before her,” replied the captain, “and she seems to be resigned. To tell the truth, though, I half-believe there is something at the back of it all—that some deeper cause drove her out here. Nothing to her discredit, I mean.”
“What makes you think so?” I asked.
“A chance remark that she let fall,” he answered.
I would have questioned Captain Rudstone more closely, but just then he drained his glass and rose with an air of sudden determination.
“I have work to do,” he said gravely, as he put on his hat. “I must keep track of Cuthbert Mackenzie. Miss Hatherton knew nothing of his real character, and I am satisfied that he knew as little of her while they were at sea. But what he may have learned since landing is a different matter. I will come back here this evening, and meanwhile I would advise you to remain in the hotel. There is a ship sailing for the Bay in a week as you probably know, and I shall be heartily glad when we are at sea. Cuthbert Mackenzie is a serpent that stings in the dark.”
He bade me good morning and was gone.