"I may add, and I do it reluctantly, although I tell you fairly I give no credit whatever to the report--for whenever anything sad and disastrous occurs it is sure to give rise to a thousand vague whispers of other calamities--that a rumour has reached this place, since the fatal event of the morning, that a boat has been capsized in the bay, having four persons on board, all of whom were lost; and credulous people will have it that this was the boat which was carrying your brother. However, you may make your mind quite easy on this score; such a thing occurs very rarely in the Chesapeake, and I dare say the whole tale is a fabrication. Yet I cannot but condole with you very sincerely upon the terrible disaster which has actually occurred. That is sufficient, without anything more, to strike you with profound grief; for to see such near connection falling by each other's hand, to the disruption of all family ties and kindred associations, is, indeed, very terrible, although I am inclined to think that neither Davenport nor Conway were so much to blame as those who pretended to act as their friends. "Believe me to be, my dear madam, with sincere sympathy and respect, your faithful friend and servant, "AGAR HARCOURT." "_Postscriptum_--I am truly grieved to inform you that the rumour of a boat having been lost proves to be too true. Do not alarm yourself yet. We have no particulars; but simply that about ten o'clock this morning a small boat was seen crowding sail across the bay, when by some sudden accident, no one knows what, she was seen to capsize at a great distance from shore. No assistance could be rendered; for all the vessels which saw her were far distant, and a gale was blowing at the time. Let us hope for the best, however, and put our trust in God." I read the letter attentively. I scrutinized--I examined every word. There was no doubt it was a genuine letter, from some gentleman I had never heard of, to good aunt Bab. Yet there was something wrong. There must be some mistake. The post-mark was there--the address was written in the same hand as the letter itself; but there was some mistake or some fraud about it. At length I turned to the docket, written in a neat, round, legal-like hand, and in very fresh ink; and it gave me the clue. This Mr. Agar Harcourt, who had written the letter, was evidently intimately acquainted with all the parties, and could not have made a mistake. The letter expressed what he believed to be true, and there was no probability of his believing anything that was not true. Yet there was a falsehood somewhere. The docket, however, read thus,-- "Letter, from the Rev. Agar Harcourt to Mrs. Barbara Thornton in regard to the death of Colonel Edward Davenport by the hands of Sir Richard Conway, baronet, father of the present Sir Richard Conway, now serving in the ---- regiment of dragoons in the Presidency of Bombay."