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But here he found another little hope; some squalls of wet, one very heavy, had set the kennels running shortly after he had met Mr Greyquill, and if that letter had lain exposed to those three or four deluges, it not only stood to be changed into a mere rag to the eye which none would dream of even glancing at, but the writing must have been washed out to a degree to render the sense of the letter unintelligible. He considered that it was not above two or three hours when that letter was in his pocket, and that it must have fallen somewhere betwixt his father's house and the Minorca in that time, for he had taken the same road to and fro. He reflected that that road was but little used compared with the lane that led to the bridge where the Actons' carriage had stopped. Understanding as a sailor the preciousness of time, and conceiving that if the letter had by some strange mischance fallen during his walk unobserved by him it might still rest in the spot where it had dropped, insomuch that chance—for the fellow was a gambler at heart—might concede him yet an hour, even two hours, in which to find it, he put on his hat and marched out of[Pg 153] the house, just saying to his father in the window that he had an appointment and should miss it if he didn't hasten, and then stepped out, casting as he went to right and left of his path eyes as piercingly scrutinising as those which the madman darts when he seeks for the philosopher's stone.,

"Well, what of it? Maurice found him a soft hidin' place and good pasture on his Dad's farm, didn't he?",

He paused abruptly, and the boy felt the hand on his shoulder tremble.,

O'Dule's shaggy brows met in a frown. "Ut's no good a'tall, a'tall," he said, contemptuously. "Ut's not aven a snake-bite that trinket wud save ye from, let alone a ghost."

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"How sits the wind?" enquired Captain Acton, who being used to his daughter's occasional absence took no particular interest in her failure that morning to attend the breakfast table.,

"That, sir, I couldn't say," answered Captain Weaver. "But we might take it as his having heard it after eight o'clock.",

Wilson drained his cup and set it down in the saucer, methodically. The news did not seem to surprise him. "Who made the offer, Hinter?" he asked.,

He pointed a shaking finger at Croaker. "See that shiny thing that old rogue has in his bill, Lou!" he asked. "What do you 'spose that is?"