Uncle Luke stood motionless, watching, and they could see that a boat rowed out from the harbour had gone on, and put in just opposite to the patch of the sand where that remote something had been cast up by the sea. To have carried it would have meant the use of a boat at the little ferry, and it was evident that the sergeant had decided to bring the sad flotsam and jetsam round to the harbour steps. Leslie felt the old man's arm tremble, and his efforts to be firm, as they stood and watched the boat put off again, after a few minutes' delay. Then the little crowd which had collected came slowly back over the rugged shore till they reached the eastern arm of the harbour just as the boat was coming in, and a piece of sail spread in the stern sheets told but too plainly the nature of her load. "Mr Luke Vine," said Leslie. "Yes," cried the old man, starting and speaking in a harsh way, as if suddenly brought back to the present. "Will you let me make a suggestion?" The old man only stared hard at him. "Let me spare you this painful scene. It may not be as you think, and if it is not, it will be a shock; but if--there, let me go, and if it prove to be according to your fears, let me send you word by a trusty messenger, and you can then go up to your brother's house and break the terrible news as gently as you can." Uncle Luke shook his head and began to descend the slope, timing his speed so as to reach the harbour steps at the same time as the boat. There was a crowd waiting, but the people parted respectfully to allow the old man and his companion to pass, and the next minute Uncle Luke was questioning the sergeant with his eyes. The man stepped ashore, and gave an order or two which sent a constable off at a trot, and another policeman took his post at the head of the steps, to keep the way down to the boat. "Am I to speak plainly, sir?" said the detective in a low voice. "Yes; let me know the worst." "I'm afraid it is, sir. We have made no examination yet." He did not finish all he had to say aloud, but whispered in the old man's ear. Uncle Luke made an effort to be firm, but he shuddered and turned to Leslie. "Up to the King's Arms," he said huskily; and taking Leslie's arm, the old man walked slowly towards the waterside inn; but they had not gone half-way before they encountered George Vine coming hastily down. Uncle Luke's whole manner changed. "Where are you going?" he cried half angrily. His brother merely pointed to the boat. "How did you know? Who told you?" he said harshly. "Nne," was the calm reply. "Luke, do you suppose I could rest without watching for what I knew must come?" His piteous, reproachful voice went to the heart of his hearers. "Tell me," he continued earnestly, "Mr Leslie, the truth." "There is nothing to tell, sir," said Leslie gravely, "so far it is only surmise. Come with us and wait."