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Updated: June 4, 2025
And I think I know the men who did it." "You know the men?" "Yes; but my knowledge won't help to avenge his death, if I can't bring it home to them and I don't suppose I can. There'll be a coroner's inquest, won't there?" At the inquest, next day, Joyce Harker told his story; but that story threw very little light on the circumstances of Valentine Jernam's death.
Miller heard her brother, with gasping breath and feeble utterance, tell that horrible story, her heart died within her. She knew it well. Who at Allanbay had not heard of the murder of Mrs. Jernam's darling nephew, the bright, popular, kind-hearted seaman, whose coming had been a jubilee in the little port; whose disappearance had made so painful a sensation?
"May I ask how Rosamond Duncombe's husband comes to address his wife's father in the tone you have just used to me?" "You are Rosamond's father," answered George; "that is sufficient reason that Valentine Jernam's brother should keep aloof from you." "The man's mad," muttered Captain Duncombe; "undoubtedly mad."
"I mean to try my luck yet at getting at the bottom of the mystery," said Andrew Larkspur. "Five hundred pounds reward is worth working for. I I've a notion that I shall lay my hands upon Valentine Jernam's murderer sooner or later." "Who offers the reward?" asked Honoria. "Government offers one hundred of it; George Jernam four hundred more." "Who is George Jernam?"
It has been lying here for the last two or three days; but I forgot all about it till just this minute." Joyce took the letter. It was addressed to Captain Valentine Jernam, of the 'Pizarro', at the 'Jolly Tar', care of the landlord, and it came from the Cape of Good Hope. Joyce recognized George Jernam's writing.
He had been arrested on a charge of burglary, within a month of Valentine Jernam's death, and condemned to five years' transportation. In less than three years, by some kind of artful management, and by the exercise of consummate hypocrisy, Mr. Milsom had contrived to get himself free again, and to return to England his own master.
As it was, the neighbours made friends with her by degrees, and the poor widow's life was not an unhappy or solitary one. Mrs. Jernam had early learned the particulars of her case, and a friendship had grown up between them, of which Mrs. Miller duly acknowledged the condescension on Mrs. Jernam's part. Mrs.
She had heard the story from his aunt, and Rosamond had told her how her husband lived in the hope of finding out and punishing his brother's murderer. And now he was found, this murderer, this thief, this guilt- burdened criminal: and he was her only brother, and dying. Ah, well, Valentine Jernam was avenged. Providence had exacted George Jernam's vengeance: the wrath of man was not needed here.
Mugby, in her most insinuating tone, "which I am well aware it's not my place to interfere in family matters; but knowing as devotion itself is a word not strong enough to express Mrs. Jernam's feelings for her pa, I cannot stand by and see her misunderstood by that very pa.
That small battered coin was very familiar to George Jernam's gaze, and it was scarcely strange if the warm life-blood ebbed from his cheeks, and left them ashy pale. The coin was a keepsake which he had given to his murdered brother, Valentine, on the eve of their last parting. And he found it here here, in Joseph Duncombe's desk!
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