"Notorious?"

"It was a George Gordon who was the hero of that piratical affair; that
mutiny on board the _Morning Star_."

"Ah, to be sure. And an awful villain too! A man I met in Australia knew
Gordon well. But he tells a curious tale, though. He was a doctor, that
Gordon; had come last from somewhere in Kirkcudbrightshire."

"He did," said Thomas Carr, quietly. "What curious tale does your friend
tell?"

"Well, sir, he says--or rather said, for I've not seen him since my first
visit there--that George Gordon did not sail in the _Morning Star_. He
was killed in a drunken brawl the night before he ought to have sailed:
this man was present and saw him buried."

"But there's pretty good proof that Gordon did sail. He was the
ringleader of the mutiny."

"Well, yes. I don't know how it could have been. The man was positive.
I never knew Gordon; so that the affair did not interest me much."

"You are doing well over there?"

"Very well. I might retire now, if I chose to live in a small way, but I
mean to take a few more years of it, and go on to riches. Ah! and it was
just the turn of a pin whether I went over there that second time, or
whether I stopped in London to serve writs and starve."

"Val was right," thought the barrister.

On the following Saturday Mr. Carr took a return-ticket, and went down
to Hartledon: as he had done once or twice before in the old days. The
Hartledons had not come to town this season; did not intend to come: Anne
was too happy in the birth of her baby-boy to care for London; and Val
liked Hartledon better than any other place now.

In one single respect the past year had failed to bring Anne
happiness--there was not entire confidence between herself and her
husband. He had something on his mind, and she could not fail to see that
he had. It was not that awful dread that seemed to possess him in his
first wife's time; nevertheless it was a weight which told more or less
on his spirits at all times. To Anne it appeared like remorse; yet she
might never have thought this, but for a word or two he let slip
occasionally. Was it connected with his children? She could almost have
fancied so: and yet in what manner could it be? His behaviour was
peculiar. He rather avoided them than not; but when with them was almost
passionately demonstrative, exactingly jealous that due attention should
be paid to them: and he seemed half afraid of caressing Anne's baby, lest
it should be thought h