At that the dying man fell into profound thought, and when he looked at them again the fever-flush had mounted to his face, and there was a light in his eyes.

He told them that if there was any one upon the shore that day who would have done such a thing it was the very rich and pious lady that he himself had taken to the wreck.

She had been alone with the body when she sent the other women for wrappings.
They thought that perhaps his mind was wandering, and left him, promising to return next day; but when they came again he was dead.
'I have learned since I came here,' said the Jew, 'that he was the son of the old man who lives in the great house down there among the trees.' They both looked down at the park.

The leafless elms stood up like giant feathers in the white mist of the moonbeams, and the chimney-stacks of the house threw a deep shadow on the shining roof.
'But we felt,' said the Jew, 'that even if the judgment of the dying boy were a true one, and this lady had committed the crime, we still had no evidence against her, and that whoever was wicked enough to steal would certainly deny the act, and conceal that which was stolen.

Hopeless as it seemed to wait, doing nothing, our only chance of redress would be lost by making any inquiry which might frighten her.