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"He surely did not," answered Cobin. "Nobody knows where he went—nor cares. But nobody can do anythin' with that timber without his sayso. It's a year or more since ol' Scroggie died. People do say that his ghost floats about the old cabin, at nights, but of course that can't be, sir." "Simply a letter, your honour, folded into four, without address, written in pencil, and not sealed?" said the hunchback. He had been so transported by his scheme for winning the beautiful young girl whom he worshipped that his survey of the vast canvas of his intentions was in reality restricted to but one corner of it, so that he saw only a little of the whole truth. First, and certainly foremost, he had counted upon her love for[Pg 290] him, which, however carefully the secret might have been kept by her, was witnessed by him every time they had met, and flourished as a conviction in him. He had looked for her forgiveness for the rashness, and, it may be added, the cruelty of his conspiracy of love, and he never could have believed that in the sweet image of the girl dwelt such a character as she had exhibited since, after inveigling her on board into his cabin, he confessed that the story which had brought her to him was a lie, and with a face filled with the light of worship for her avowed his intentions..

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"Yes, I've heard." Hinter rose abruptly and strode to the window overlooking the bay. A full moon was lifting above the pines. In its silvery track a tiny sail was beating harborward. Maurice squirmed uncomfortably. "Now look here, Bill," he protested, "Fatty an' me wasn't any scarter than you was, yourself. Who made the first jump, I want'a know; who?" That night as he was undressing for bed Mrs. Wilson came softly up the stairs, a tumbler half filled with a smoky liquid in one hand, a black strap in the other. "Next mornin'," continued Cobin, "Frank went over to see old Scroggie. He wanted to hear him say what he told him the night afore, ag'in. It was gettin' along towards spring; the day was warm an' smelled of maple sap. Scroggie's cabin door was standin' ajar, Frank says. The ol' man was sittin' in his chair, a Bible upside down on his knees. He was dead!.