fellow. "'Twas a joke in the publics,
and with the street boys; but I never heard tell till now that any
one took it serious."

"He was learning navigation," mused Miss Belcher. "What was the name
of his teacher?"

"A Captain Branscome, ma'am. He's a teacher at Stimcoe's."

"Lives in the house, does he?"

"No, ma'am."

"A _Captain_ Branscome, you say?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's a retired packet captain, and lame of one leg.
Every one in Falmouth knows Captain Branscome."

"H'm! Wouldn't this Captain Branscome wonder a little that a man of
your friend's age, and (we'll say) a bit wrong in his head, should
want to learn navigation?"

"He might, ma'am."

"He certainly would," snapped Miss Belcher. "And wouldn't this
Captain Branscome know it was perfectly useless to teach such a man?"

"I dare say he would, ma'am," I answered, guiltily recalling Captain
Branscome's own words to me on this subject.

"Then why did he take the man's money, eh? Well, go on with your
story."

I breathed more easily for a while, but by-and-by, when I came to
tell of the discussion by the old windmill, I felt her eyes upon me
again.

"Wait a moment. Captain Coffin gave you a key, and this key was to
open the corner cupboard in his lodgings. Wasn't it rather foolish
of him to send you, seeing that this Aaron Glass had seen you in his
company, and would recognize you if he were watching the premises,
which was just what you both feared?"

"He didn't count on me to go," I admitted; "at least, not first
along."

"On whom, then?"

"On Captain Branscome, ma'am."

"Oh! Did he send you with that message to Captain Branscome?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then why didn't you tell us so? Well, when you took the message,
what did Captain Branscome say? And why didn't he go?"

"He was not at home, ma'am. Mr. Stimcoe had given us a holiday in
honour of the prisoners."

"I see. So Captain Branscome was off on an outing? When did he
return?"

"I didn't see him that evening, ma'am."

"That's not an answer to my question. I asked, When did he return?"

"Not until yesterday afternoon."

I had to think before giving this answer, so long a stretch of time
seemed to lie between me and yesterday afternoon.

"Where had he been spending his holiday meanwhile?"

"He didn't tell me, ma'am."

"At all events, he didn't turn up for school next day, nor the next
again, until the afternoon. Queer sort of academy, Stimcoe's.
Did Mr. Stimco