“Upon no former occasion did she ever give you hint?”

“Never.”

“She never told you of the circumstances under which you were confided to her care?”

“Never.”

“And she never spoke of a mysterious box or any relics that might some day serve as identification tokens.”

“Never.  She always gave me to understand that she was my real mother.”

“Well, now, Renie, I wish to ask you some very, important questions, and I desire that you will think and consider well before you make a reply.”

“I have a good memory; but, first, tell me what was the purport of the conversation between my father and the man Garcia?”

“We will not speak of that now.”

“There were revelations made”

“Yes.”

“And you will repeat them to me?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Some day.”

“Why not now?”

“I will answer you frankly.  I have determined, as I told you, to solve the mystery connected with your consignment to the care of Mrs. Pearce, and I do not wish to tell you anything that will start any suggestions in your mind, until I have collected and considered all the little memories you may have retained of the habits of your supposed mother.”

“Her habits were ordinary and commonplace enough.  She was merely a good, hard-working fisherman’s wife.”

“But did she not act like a woman who possessed:  a secret?”

The girl was thoughtful for some moments.

“I do remember a strange incident that once occurred when I was quite a girl.”

“Ah! now we are getting down to it.  Relate the incident.”

“My reputed mother is buried in the graveyard on the mainland, beside the grave of her son.”

“Yes.”

“Well, once she visited his grave with me, and as she stood weeping, she said, after focusing her eyes on me in a strange manner: 

“’Renie, some day from that grave may come forth a strange secret; the day may come when I will tell you about it.’”

CHAPTER II.

The detective was keenly interested at once.

“Were you old enough to consider her remark seriously?”

“Yes; I formed an idea as to her meaning.”

“What was your idea?”

“She alluded to the resurrection of the dead.  She was what they called a Millerite.”

“Yes; I have heard of those people—­a strange sect, who believed the world was coming to an end about every three months.  So you thought she alluded to the resurrection?”

“Yes.”

“Did she visit her son’s grave often?”

“No.”

“Did you ever notice that her mind took any particular line of thought after these visits?”

“No.”

The detective was thoughtful a moment, but his meditations were rudely disturbed by the reappearance of the boy Tommy.  The little fellow had been running hard, and was almost breathless as he called to Renie:  “Come quick!  I’ve something to tell you.”