“It is something in common,” Mermaid told her. “There is, or was, someone who knew us both, and who becomes manifest to us both in that way. It’s like two people seeing the same ghost. Why should the ghost appear in that way? I can’t tell you. Perhaps the person was drowned. Why should the Duneswoman appear to us at all? Perhaps to witness to something. We may never discover what; and then again the day may come when that vision will be the last impalpable evidence necessary to make something clear. Then the Duneswoman may make complete the explanation of a surprising but perfectly ordinary set of facts; and the explanation, and not the facts themselves, will make up the miracle.” “I guess likely you’re right enough,” surmised Mrs. Hand, “though I’m not sure I follow you all through. I’m a matter-of-fact kind of a person. That’s why any one like Captain Vanton gives me the creeps and gets on my nerves so. I don’t know what he does to that wife of his, or what he has done, but I don’t wonder we never see anything of her. She must be a wreck, living with that man. And he’s ruining that boy.” “Guy?” asked Mermaid. A quick ear would have caught the peculiar note in her voice. “Guy goes around with a hang-dog look. He never speaks to any one. He lives like a hermit, and his father’ll make him as bad as himself,” stated Keturah, with conviction. “I must go see him,” said the girl. Her voice was deep and vibrant. “I must see his father.” “His father has got Aunt Keturah’s jewels,” announced Mrs. Hand. “I’ve been sure of it ever since the day they disappeared over to the beach. How he knew about them I don’t pretend to say; but as he followed Captain John Hawkins in the command of the _China Castle_ he must have come to knowledge of them some way or other. Do you remember when you were not more than eleven his coming to call here?” “I’ve never forgotten it.” “He said a Captain King was dead and that he had killed him. He said this Captain King wouldn’t trouble us any longer--your father and me. Your father remembered then that one of the crew from the wreck of the ship, the ship you were saved from, had talked of a Captain King when he was dying and of a little girl that must have been you. So we thought--your father thought, anyway--that Captain Vanton might have known something about you.” She reached over and took Mermaid’s hand, awkwardly. “He went to see him, but Captain Vanton couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him anything.” Keturah paused and sighed. “Captain Vanton told Dickie Hand’s father about the death of Captain King,” said Mermaid, surprising her aunt. “Dickie once told me so.” “I want to know!” exclaimed Keturah. She was silent for several moments in busy speculation.