out, for I found him swearing over it. And he said he'd like you to see
it."

"Who was the letter from? What was it about?"

"It looked like Miss Caroline's writing, sir, and the postmark was
Essex. As to what it was about--well, the Major didn't directly tell me,
but I gathered that it might be about--"

"About what?" questioned Mr Hamlyn, for the man had come to a dead
standstill. "Speak out, Saul."

"Then, sir," said Saul, slowly rubbing the top of his head, and the few
grey hairs left on it, "I thought--as you tell me to speak--it must be
something concerning that ship you know of; she that went down on her
voyage home, Mr. Philip."

"The _Clipper of the Seas_?"

"Just so, sir; the _Clipper of the Seas_. I thought it by this," added
Saul: "that pretty nigh all day afterwards he talked of nothing but that
ship, asking me if I should suppose it possible that the ship had not
gone down and every soul on board, leastways of her passengers, with
her. 'Master,' said I, in answer, 'had that ship not gone down and all
her passengers with her, rely upon it, they'd have turned up long before
this.' 'Ay, ay,' stormed he, 'and Caroline's a fool'--Which of course
meant his sister, you know, sir."

Philip Hamlyn could not make much of this. So many years had elapsed now
since news came out to the world that the unfortunate ship, _Clipper of