"The lights were the country folk's signals to Will Watch's lugger, that was then running in. Luckily for me, as I thought, she took up a berth a good way off the spot where Ashton lay. All the country turned out to run the cargo. And I crept down by myself to the beach, and came to where he had fallen, and there I found him stone-dead. I don't know what it was moved me, but I fancied that if the body were not owned nothing could be done. And, in that thought, I took off the clothes, and buried them in a nook of the cliff, which I could show to this day. For himself, I could see, by the light from the water, he was so much hurt that no one would know him. I should say, that I got the money which had been the cause of our difference. Well, when this was all over, my fears grew worse and worse. I thought it would have been better to have left him alone. At last I went among the throng of folks that were busy running the kegs, and got on board the lugger. She took me over to Holland, and from there I shipped myself for the Spanish Indies, and lived a roving life. "But I tired of it at length, and had got a wife--my poor Felipa--and a little girl. So I came home. Lived quiet a while, until I was sure that no one knew me by my old name, and that the tale of Ashton's death was nigh forgotten, and then took to the cabin on the hill. The rest you know." Owen listened to this narrative with wonder and joy, for he saw it would be likely to restore his squire, as he called him, to all his rights. "But why," said he after a silence, "why then did you not come forward to claim the reward they offered?" "I did not know of any such," Gabriel answered. "If I had, I should not have heeded it till they drove me from my cottage. It matters not now. Do what you will with the tale." The young peasant gazed on the swarthy features which had been bronzed by near a score of year's exposure to a tropical sun, and did not marvel that the sea-faring wanderer had escaped unrecognised. He was in communication with an attorney of the town for the purposes of his own defence, and to him, with Gabriel's permission, he told the strange tale. Its importance was at once perceived and acknowledged. And the lawyer in question immediately despatched the news to Griffith by the messenger whose arrival had excited the curiosity described in the opening of this chapter. Thus Michael Sinson's artifices again recoiled upon himself; by his attempted perversion of Gabriel Denis, he cut the ground from under his own feet. He acquired some inkling of what had transpired, and hurried back to London; more vexed than before at his quarrel with Everope, of whose melancholy end he had as yet received no information.