“We can guess at the probabilities of what happened,” he said. “The boy was undoubtedly taken onto the schooner; and now he can’t be found. But, strictly speaking, we have no proof that he is dead.”

“He may, of course, have swum across the Gulf of Mexico and landed at New Orleans.”

Thornton’s cigar, as he finished speaking, snapped in two.

“I know this is⁠ ⁠…” began Mathias with professional gentleness, then had the sense to check himself. “I am afraid there is no doubt that we can personally entertain that the lad is dead: but there is a legal doubt: and where there is a legal doubt a jury might well refuse to convict.”

“Unless they were carried away by an attack of common sense.”

Mathias paused for a moment before asking: