nk it was the work of a thief?" inquired Mrs. Ormond,
smiling.

"Oh no, ma'am," was the answer. "It don't strike me as being that."

"By the way," said Mr. Ormond, "I suppose you saw the account in the
paper to-day of that terrible shipwreck? You remember William Cole,
my gardener? The _Arcadia_ was the ship he sailed on, and I'm afraid
there's very little doubt but that the poor fellow's drowned. At all
events, he's not mentioned as one of the four passengers who were
saved."

"Dear, dear!" exclaimed Evans, the little twinkle in his eye disappearing
in an instant. "So Will Cole was on board that ship! Well, well, it's sad
news, very!"

"It is," answered Mr. Ormond. "He had his faults, but he seemed a sharp,
promising young fellow; and I hoped he'd do well in the Colonies."

"So did I, sir. When I heard he was going abroad I thought it was about
the best thing that could happen. I was afraid that if he stayed on much
longer in these parts he'd find himself in trouble."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, sir," continued the man in blue, slowly, and with his eyes bent
on the tablecloth. "One don't wish to talk ill of the dead, and I don't
know as I've got anything to say against Will himself more than this,
that of late he seemed to be getting mixed up with them as would have
done him no good."

"I knew nothing of this," said Mr. Ormond.

"No, I don't suppose you would, sir; but such things naturally come
under our notice, and he wouldn't have been the first young chap I've
seen get associated with an idle, drinking, betting lot, and then come
to grief. However, the poor fellow's beyond all that now, and I can only
say I'm sorry to hear of his death."

As Mr. Evans walked home, cogitating on the interview which has just
been described, the sly smile once more returned to his face; and on
entering his own door, and being greeted with the savoury smell of
something hot for supper, his good-humour was so far increased that he
laughed aloud. Seated at table, he entertained his wife with an account
of his visit to the magistrate's house.

"Well, what could have been the meaning of it all?" inquired Mrs. Evans.
"Where's the sense in treating a knife in that fashion?"

The sergeant leant back in his chair and chuckled. "It beat me for some
time," he answered. "But then I saw through it clear enough."

"And who done it, then? A burglar?"

"Burglar my grandmother!" replied Mr. Evans. "No, 'twas like this--so at
least I puts it to