It had escaped investigation if there was any.
Chance had armed him. And chance alone, the chance of Mr. Powell's life,
forced him to turn the abominable weapon against himself.
I imparted my theory to Mr. Powell who accepted it at once as, in a
sense, favourable to the father of Mrs. Anthony. Then he waved his hand.
"Don't let us think of it."
I acquiesced and very soon he observed dreamily:
"I was with Captain and Mrs. Anthony sailing all over the world for near
on six years. Almost as long as Franklin."
"Oh yes! What about Franklin?" I asked.
Powell smiled. "He left the _Ferndale_ a year or so afterwards, and I
took his place. Captain Anthony recommended him for a command. You
don't think Captain Anthony would chuck a man aside like an old glove.
But of course Mrs. Anthony did not like him very much. I don't think she
ever let out a whisper against him but Captain Anthony could read her
thoughts.
And again Powell seemed to lose himself in the past. I asked, for
suddenly the vision of the Fynes passed through my mind.
"Any children?"
Powell gave a start.
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