should call
at his office early next morning. When he had left me, I sought out a
place where I could get some supper, and, that over, I idled about the
town until it was time for the train from the south to get in. And I was
on the platform when it came, and there was my mother and Maisie and Mr.
Lindsey, and I saw at a glance that all that was filling each was sheer
and infinite surprise. My mother gripped me on the instant.

"Hugh!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here, and what does all this
mean? Such a fright as you've given us! What's the meaning of it?"

I was so taken aback, having been certain that Carstairs would have gone
home and told them I was accidentally drowned, that all I could do was to
stare from one to the other. As for Maisie, she only looked wonderingly
at me; as for Mr. Lindsey, he gazed at me as scrutinizingly as my mother
was doing.

"Aye!" said he, "what's the meaning of it, young man? We've done your
bidding and more--but--why?"

I found my tongue at that.

"What!" I exclaimed. "Haven't you seen Sir Gilbert Carstairs? Didn't you
hear from him that--"

"We know nothing about Sir Gilbert Carstairs," he interrupted. "The fact
is, my lad, that until your wire arrived this afternoon, nobody had even
heard of you and Sir Gilbert Carstairs since you went off in his yacht
yesterday. Neither he nor the yacht have ever returned to Berwick. Where
are they?"

CHAPTER XXII

I READ MY OWN OBITUARY

It was my turn to stare again--and stare I did, from one to the other in
silence, and being far too much amazed to find ready speech. And before I
could get my tongue once more, my mother, who was always remarkably sharp
of eye, got her word in.

"What're you doing in that new suit of clothes?" she demanded. "And
where's your own good clothes that you went away in yesterday noon? I
misdoubt this stewardship's leading you into some strange ways!"

"My own good clothes, mother, are somewhere in the North Sea," retorted
I. "Top or bottom, sunk or afloat, it's there you'll find them, if you're
more anxious about them than me! Do you tell me that Carstairs has never
been home?" I went on, turning to Mr. Lindsey, "Then I don't know where
he is, nor his yacht either. All I know is that he left me to drown last
night, a good twenty miles from land, and that it's only by a special
mercy of Providence that I'm here. Wherever he is, yon man's a
murderer--I've settled that, Mr. Lindsey!"

The wom