except that they had not embarked in the ship which brought the rest of
the crew to England. Whatever may have become of the captain since, he
certainly never returned to Liverpool."

"Did you find out his name?"

The question was asked by Turlington. Even Sir Joseph, the least
observant of men, noticed that it was put with a perfectly unaccountable
irritability of manner.

"Don't be angry, Richard." said the old gentleman. "What is there to be
angry about?"

"I don't know what you mean. I'm not angry--I'm only curious. _Did_ you
find out who he was?"

"I did. His name was Goward. He was well known at Liverpool as a very
clever and a very dangerous man. Quite young at the time I am speaking
of, and a first-rate sailor; famous for taking command of unseaworthy
ships and vagabond crews. Report described him to me as having made
considerable sums of money in that way, for a man in his position;
serving firms, you know, with a bad name, and running all sorts of
desperate risks. A sad ruffian, Richard! More than once in trouble, on
both sides of the Atlantic, for acts of violence and cruelty. Dead, I
dare say, long since."

"Or possibly," said Launce, "alive, under another name, and thriving in
a new way of life, with more desperate risks in it, of some other sort."

"Are _you_ acquainted with the circumstances?" asked Turlington,