jacket and
knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon his head. we watched
him staring round with frightened eyes. then he laid the
candle-end upon the table and disappeared from our view
into one of the corners. he returned with a large book,
one of the log-books which formed a line upon the shelves.
leaning on the table he rapidly turned over the leaves of
this volume until he came to the entry which he sought.
then, with an angry gesture of his clenched hand, he closed
the book, replaced it in the corner, and put out the light.
he had hardly turned to leave the hut when hopkins's hand
was on the fellow's collar, and i heard his loud gasp of
terror as he understood that he was taken. the candle was
re-lit, and there was our wretched captive shivering and
cowering in the grasp of the detective. he sank down upon
the sea-chest, and looked helplessly from one of us to the
other.
"now, my fine fellow," said stanley hopkins, "who are you,
and what do you want here?"
the man pulled himself together and faced us with an effort
at self-composure.
"you are detectives, i suppose?" said he. "you imagine i
am connected with the death of captain peter carey.
i assure you that i am innocent."
"we'll see about that," said hopkins. "first of all,
what is your name?"
"it is john hopley neligan."
i saw holmes and hopkins exchange a quick glance.
"what are you doing here?"
"can i speak confidentially?"
"no, certainly not."
"why should i tell you?"
"if you have no answer it may go badly with you at the trial."
the young man winced.
"well, i will tell you," he said. "why should i not?
and yet i hate to think of this old scandal gaining a new
lease of life. did you ever hear of dawson and neligan?"
i could see from hopkins's face that he never had; but
holmes was keenly interested.
"you mean the west-country bankers," said he. "they failed
for a million, ruined half the county families of cornwall,
and neligan disappeared."
"exactly. neligan was my father."
at last we were getting something positive, and yet it
seemed a long gap between an absconding banker and captain
peter carey pinned against the wall with one of his own
harpoons. we all listened intently to the young man's words.
"it was my father who was really concerned. dawson had
retired. i was only ten years of age at the time, but i
was old enough to feel the shame and horror of it all.
it has always been said that my father stole all the
securities and fled. it is not true. it was his belief
that if he were given time in which to realize them all
would be well and every creditor paid in full. he started
in his little yacht for norway just before the warrant was
issued for his arrest. i can remember that last night when
he bade farewell to my mother. he left us a list of the
securities he was taking, and he swore that he would come
back with his honour cleared, and that none who had trusted
him would suffer. well, no word was ever heard from him
again. both the yacht and he vanished utterly. we
believed, my mother and i, that he and it, with the
securities that he had taken with him, were at the bottom
of the sea. we had a faithful friend, however, who is a
business man, and it was he who discovered some time ago
that some of the securities which my father had with him
have reappeared on the london market. you can imagine our
amazement. i spent months in trying to trace them, and at
last, after many doublings and difficulties, i discovered
that the original seller had been captain peter carey, the
owner of this hut.
"naturally, i made some inquiries about the man. i found
that he had been in command of a whaler which was due to
return from the arctic seas at the very time when my father
was crossing to norway. the autumn of that year was a
stormy one, and there was a long succession of southerly
gales. my father's yacht may well have been blown to the
north, and there met by captain peter carey's ship. if
that were so, what had become of my father? in any case,
if i could prove from peter carey's evidence how these
securities came on the market it would be a proof that my
father had not sold them, and that he had no view to
personal profit when he took them.
"i came down to sussex with the intention of seeing the
captain, but it was at this moment that his terrible death
occurred. i read at the inquest a description of his
cabin, in which it stated that the old log-books of his
vessel were preserved in it. it struck me that if i could
see what occurred in the month of august, 1883, on board
the _sea unicorn_, i might settle the mystery of my
father's fate. i tried last night to get at these
log-books, but was unable to open the door. to-night i
tried again, and succeeded; but i find that the pages which
deal with that month have been to
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