From the moment of dropping it in the drawer he had utterly forgotten its existence--till now, when the man's name had come out so clamorously.

He glanced at the common envelope, noted the shaky and laborious handwriting: H.Walter, Esqre.

Undoubtedly the very last letter the old butler had posted before his illness, and in answer clearly to one from "Master Arthur" instructing him to address in the future: "Care of Messrs.

W.Dunster and Co." Renouard made as if to open the envelope, but paused, and, instead, tore the letter deliberately in two, in four, in eight.

With his hand full of pieces of paper he returned on deck and scattered them overboard on the dark water, in which they vanished instantly.
He did it slowly, without hesitation or remorse.