"
"Yes, but I reckon the old man hadn't quite got over the 'Clarion'
abuse, for all its eating humble-pie and taking back its yarns of him.
And may be he might have thought the engagement rather sudden. They say
that she'd only met Fletcher the day afore the engagement."
"That be d----d," said Peters, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and
startling the lazy resignation of his neighbors by taking his feet from
the stove and sitting upright. "I tell ye, gentlemen, I'm sick o' this
sort o' hog-wash that's been ladled round to us. That gal Clementina
Harcourt and that feller Fletcher had met not only once, but MANY times
afore--yes! they were old friends if it comes to that, a matter of six
years ago."
Grant's eyes were fixed eagerly on the speaker, although the others
scarcely turned their heads.
"You know, gentlemen," said Peters, "I never took stock in this yer
story of the drownin' of 'Lige Curtis. Why? Well, if you wanter know--in
my opinion--there never was any 'Lige Curtis!"
Billings lifted his head with difficulty; Wingate turned his face to the
speaker.
"There never was a scrap o' paper ever found in his cabin with the
name o' 'Lige Curtis on it; there never was any inquiry made for 'Lige
Curtis; there never was any sorrowin' friends comin' after 'Lige Curtis.
For why?--There never was any 'Lige Curtis. The man who passed himself
off in Sidon under that name--was that man Fletcher.
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