CHAPTER XVIII.
THE DEAD ARE FORGIVEN.
Roland Sefton's pocket-book, containing his passport and the papers and photographs, had reached Mr.Clifford the day before, with an official intimation of his death from the consulate at Berne.

The identification was complete, and the inquiry into the fatal accident had resulted in blame to no one, as the traveller had declined the services of a trustworthy guide from Meirengen to Engelberg.

This was precisely what Roland would have done, the whole country being as familiar to him as to any native.

No doubt crossed Mr.Clifford's mind that his old friend's son had met his untimely end while a fugitive from his country, from dread chiefly of his own implacable sense of justice.
Roland was dead, but justice was not satisfied.

Mr.Clifford knew perfectly well that the news of his tragic fate would create an immediate and complete reaction in his favor among his fellow-townsmen.
Hitherto he had been only vaguely accused of crime, which his absence chiefly had tended to fasten upon him; but as there had been no opportunity of bringing him to public trial, it would soon be believed that there was no evidence against him.