The doctor was too much taken aback by this disappointing announcement to say a word, and only looked at his visitor, who continued: 

“Dead and buried, three hundred fathoms beneath the sea.  This man, whose past life always appeared to me to have been mysterious, was employed three years on board my yacht, the ‘Albatross.’  I must tell you that my yacht is a stanch vessel, in which I often cruise for seven or eight months at a time.  Nearly three years ago we were passing through the Straits of Madeira, when Patrick O’Donoghan fell overboard.  I had the vessel stopped, and some boats lowered, and after a diligent search we recovered him; but though we spared no pains to restore him to life, our efforts were in vain.  Patrick O’Donoghan was dead.  We were compelled to return to the sea the prey which we had snatched from it.  The accident was put down on the ship’s log, and recorded in the notary’s office at the nearest place we reached.  Thinking that this act might be useful to you, I have brought you a certified copy of it.”

As he said this, Mr. Tudor Brown took out his pocket-book and presented the doctor with a paper stamped with a notarial seal.

The latter read it quickly.  It was a record of the death of Patrick O’Donoghan, while passing through the Straits of Madeira, duly signed and sworn to, before two witnesses, as being an exact copy of the original—­it was also registered in London, at Somerset House, by the commissioners of her Britannic Majesty.

This instrument was evidently authentic.  But the manner in which he had received it was so strange that the doctor could not conceal his astonishment.  He took it, however, with his habitual courtesy.

“Permit me to ask one question, sir,” he said to his visitor.

“Speak, doctor.”

“How is it that you have this document in your pocket duly prepared and certified?  And why have you brought it to me?”

“If I can count, you have asked two questions,” said Tudor Brown.  “I will answer them, however—­I had this paper in my pocket, because I read your advertisement two months ago, and wishing to furnish you with the information which you asked for, I thought it better to give it to you, in the most complete and definite form that lay in my power.  I have brought it to you personally, because I happened to be cruising in these waters; and I wished at the same time to gratify your curiosity and my own.”

There was nothing to answer to this reasoning—­this was the only conclusion the doctor could draw.

“Yon are here, then, with the ’Albatross’?” he asked, eagerly.

“Without doubt.”

“And you have still on board some sailors who have known Patrick O’Donoghan?”

“Yes, several.”

“Would you permit me to see them?”

“As many as you please.  Will you accompany me on board now?”

“If you have no objection.”

“I have none,” said the stranger, as he arose.