After some months, he met Mrs. Rushton in the street one day.
"Have you heard from your husband, Mrs. Rushton?" he inquired.
"No, Mr. Davis, not yet. I am beginning to feel anxious."
"How long has he been gone?"
"Between seven and eight months."
"The voyage is a long one. There are many ways of accounting for his
silence."
"He would send by some passing ship. He has been to Calcutta before,
but I have never had to wait so long for a letter."
The superintendent uttered some commonplace phrases of assurance, but in
his own heart there sprang up a wicked hope that the _Norman_ would
never reach port, and that he might never set eyes on Captain Rushton
again. For in that case, he reflected, it would be perfectly safe for
him to retain possession of the money with which he had been intrusted.
The captain had assured him that neither his wife nor son knew aught of
his savings. Who then could detect his crime? However, it was not yet
certain that the _Norman_ was lost. He might yet have to repay the
money.
Six months more passed, and still no tidings of the ship or its
commander. Even the most sanguine now gave her up for lost, including
the owners. The superintendent called upon them, ostensibly in behalf of
Mrs. Rushton, and learned that they had but slender hopes of her safety.
It was a wicked thing to rejoice over such a calamity, but his affairs
were now so entangled that a sudden demand for the five thousand dollars
would have ruined him.
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