About a year before he died, however, someone sent him the paragraph headed "Strange Tale of the Sea," and he was much disturbed by it, though to himself he argued that it was nothing but an idle story, such as it seems are often put into newspapers.

The end of the matter was that he took no steps to discover whether the tale were true or false, and none knew of it save himself, and he was not minded to go fishing in that ugly water.

So it came about that he kept silent as the grave, till at length, when the grave yawned at his feet, and when the rank and the lands and the wealth were of no more use to him, he opened his mouth to his son and to his lawyer, the two men who sat before me, and to them only, bidding them seek out the beginning of the tale, and if it were true, to make restitution to his nephew.
Now--for all this, listening with my ears wide open, and sometimes filling in what was not told me in words, I gathered from the men before they left the house--as it chanced the dying lord could not have chosen two worse people for such an errand, seeing that although the son was honest, both of them were interested in proving the tale to be false.
Since that time, however, often I have thought that he knew this himself, and trusted by the choice both to cheat his own conscience and to preserve the wealth and dignity for his son.

God, to whom he has gone, alone knows the truth of it, but with such a man it may very well have been as I think.

I say that both were interested, for it seems, as he told me afterwards, that the lawyer was to receive a great sum--ten thousand pounds--under the will of the dead lord for whom he had done much during his lifetime.