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Updated: June 1, 2025
Rodway followed Vaughan out to the stable, and repeated Bill Brown's question. "I'd like to know where yuh got this horse," he began, with an apologetic sort of determination in his tone. "He happens to belong to me. He was run off with a bunch three years ago, and this is the first trace anybody has ever got of 'em. I see the brand's been worked.
They were all of one family; they went to and fro between his breast and Ethan Brand's, and carried dark greetings from one to the other.
"I know nothing about the matter." And he turned to the door, without another look towards his son. But little Julian was not minded to be treated in this way. His large eyes had been fixed upon his father with a puzzled and rather wistful expression. He now suddenly started from his position at Mrs. Brand's knee, and pursued his father to the door.
She reviewed their talk and reassured herself, with much gratification, that nowhere had it touched what the most sensitive loyalty to her employer could have thought forbidden ground. "It's very curious," she marvelled, "how he knows about Mr. Brand's affairs. They must be the very closest friends or he could never know so much about Mr. Brand's ambitions and how he feels about his art.
More truculently still, he insists upon the worship of a deity, not white-bearded, but as young as Hercules, a scandal to prudent Lutheran theologians, a prototype of violent strength. Yet Brand's own mission remains undefined to him if it ever takes exact shape until Agnes reveals it to him: Choose thy endless loss or gain! In ourselves is that young Earth, Ripe for the divine new-birth.
"Yes, of course, I did in the old days," he answered, less suavely than usual. "When the father was alive, I used to go to the house, but, of course, I was a mere lad then." "You do not know the sons, then?" said Margaret. "My dear child, I do not hunt. Mr. Brand's only appearance in society is on the hunting field." "But there is another brother one who paints, I believe."
"I am not exactly responsible," said Janetta, "I only found him outside and brought him in to make inquiries. My name is Janetta Colwyn." "Colwyn? What? the doctor's daughter?" "Yes, the doctor's daughter," said Janetta, smiling frankly at him, "and your second cousin." Wyvis Brand's hand went up to his hat, which he lifted ceremoniously.
He took me into Silas Brand's cabin, and kneeling down, offered up a few prayers, full of deep, deep love, for my preservation from all earthly dangers, and for my acceptance as a forgiven sinner at the day of judgment. "Look straight on beyond this transient world in all you think, or try, or do.
The master spoke so confidently of Mr Brand's death, and of the others, that we began ourselves to realise the melancholy fact. What, however, was likely to be our own fate? we had several times asked ourselves. What could we expect but to be instantly murdered? We anxiously scanned the horizon on every side. There was not a sign of a sail of any description. The wind remained steady.
"Yes," resumed the captain; "you mean that you did not take the case of jewels from old Brand's pocket on that day when you found his body on the Bell Rock, though you were present, and saw your comrade pocket the booty. You see I know all about it, Davy, an' your only fault lay in concealing the matter, and in keepin' company with that scoundrel."
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