ed could end in
nothing less than death.

It was an awful thought. In sudden and uncontrollable anger my cousin
had attempted to stab me when we had our unfortunate quarrel aboard the
sloop; but this crime was far greater than his former attempt. He had
deliberately planned my death.

And if Ham Mayberry, or any of my other friends, took the pains to look
at the Wavecrest's mooring cable, they would know that the sloop had
been cut adrift. The evidence lay in both pieces of the cable.

Perhaps, however, it would not be known--it might never be suspected,
indeed--that I had been swept out to sea in the sloop. The mere fact
that I had left my tender tied to the mooring buoy might not be
understood. Beside, the tender might have been cut adrift, too. Or the
gale might have done much havoc in Bolderhead Inlet. Other craft could
easily have been strewn along the rocky shores, or carried--like the
Wavecrest--out into the open sea.

The mystery of my disappearance might never be explained--until I
returned home. And when would I get back? I did not like to think of
this. I worried over the effect my disappearance would have upon my
mother's mind. And, while I was absent, Mr. Chester Downes would have
full swing.

Worried as I was because of my situation, here in the seemingly empty
Atlantic, my greatest anxiety was for my mother. More and more had I
come to fear the evil machinations of Mr. Chester Downes. While I had
been on hand to defend mother from her brother-in-law--and defend her
from her own innocent belief in him, as well!--I was but mildly
disturbed. If worse came to worse, I could always write to Lawyer
Hounsditch whom I believed would never see my mother cheated.

But now--and God only knew for how long a time--it was beyond my power
to do a single thing toward guarding my mother from Chester Downes. How
I wish I had taken the old attorney of the Darringford Estate into my
confidence before this time!

These were some of my sad thoughts following the discovery of the
severed cable. I remained in a very, very low state of mind indeed
during that forenoon. The gale did not abate; nothing but the boisterous
sea and the overcast sky could I see about me. Not even a seabird came
to the dead whale. I was alone--stark alone.

At mid-afternoon, however, I sighted something to the southward. I had
climbed to the top of the whale for a better observation and against the
horizon I beheld a long ribbon of smoke--just