At the close of the investigation Jack went down to Timberdale. Not the open-hearted, ready-handed Jack of the old days, but a subdued, saddened man who seemed to have a care upon him. The foolish speech he had thoughtlessly made to Mr. Freeman preceded him: and Herbert Tanerton--always looking on the darkest side of everything and everybody, considered it a proof that Jack had done the deed. Timberdale (including Crabb) held opposite opinions; half of it taking Captain Tanerton's side, half the contrary one. As to the Squire, he was more helpless than an old sheep. He had always liked Jack, had believed in him as in one of us: but, you see, when one gets into trouble, faith is apt to waver. A blow, argued the pater in private, is so easily given in the heat of passion. "A pretty kettle of fish this is," croaked Herbert to Jack, on his brother's arrival. "Yes, it is," sighed Jack. "The ship's gone without you, I hear." "She had to go. Ships cannot be delayed to await the convenience of one man: you must know that, Herbert." "How came you to do it, John?" "To do what?" asked Jack. "To stay? It was no fault of mine. I was one of the chief witnesses, and the coroner would not release me." "You know what I mean. Not that. How came you to do it, I ask?" "To do what?" repeated Jack. "Kill Pym." Jack's face took a terrible shade of pain as he looked at his brother. "I should have thought, Herbert, that you, of all people, might have judged me better than that." "I don't mean to say you did it deliberately; that you meant to do it," returned the Rector in his coldest manner. "But that was a very awkward threat of yours--that if the brokers persisted in sending Pym out with you, there'd be murder committed. Very incautious!" "You can't mean what you say; you cannot surely reflect on what you would imply--that I spoke those words with intention!" flashed Jack. "You did speak them--and they were verified," contended Herbert. Just the same thing, you see, that Mr. Freeman had said to Jack in London. Poor Jack! "How did you hear that I had said anything of the kind?" "Somebody wrote it to Timberdale," answered the parson, crustily. There could be no question that the affair had crossed him more than anything that had ever happened in this world. "I think it was Coralie Fontaine." "I am deeply sorry I ever spoke them, Herbert--as things have turned out." "No doubt you are. The tongue's an evil and dangerous member. Let us drop the subject: the less it is recurred to now, the better." Captain Tanerton saw how it was--that all the world suspected him, beginning with his brother.