“We had arranged that a swift messenger should bring us instant news when the Argus came in sight,” continued Io; “but a sea-fog prevented the vessel’sbeing seen until she was almost in port;—she was to touch at Dover on her way up Channel. Not many minutes elapsed between my hearing of Oscar’s arrival and my seeing him myself.”
“You had a joyful meeting of course,” said the doctor.
Io’s head drooped, and she pressed her hand over her dark eyes, as if to hide some painful object. She was for some moments unable to speak.
“You must tell me all,” said the doctor. “How can a medical man possibly judge of a case unless he knows all the symptoms?”
Io, with her eyes still covered, made reply in a hurried, tremulous tone,—
“I shall never forget that evening. It was about an hour after sunset, and dark, but the servant was bringing in the lamps. A wild February wind had succeeded the fog—such a boisterous wind; it disturbed me, for I was straining my ear to catch the sound of a messenger’s feet, and the howling and shrieking of the blast which had suddenly risen drowned all other noises. It seemed an instinct which made me run to the hall door and open it. I was almost thrown down by the gust which rushed in and extinguished the lamp which I held in my hand. But there was the messenger indeed, and I thought of—cared for—nothing else. I cried, ‘Is the Argus in?’ I could scarcely make the question heard, but the answer made me the happiest woman on earth.I flew to my mother and sister, and proposed that we should all go forth and meet the newly arrived, for he would not tarry on the way. My mother and Jane expostulated, and spoke of the storm, which was increasing; but I rather enjoyed the rough weather, for the wind had speeded the Argus.”
Pinfold suspected, and with reason, that Io lingered over these unnecessary details in order to postpone some painful disclosure. As she paused with a gasp, he observed, “I suppose that your lover appeared before you had persuaded your good mother to go forth in the darkness and storm.”
“He appeared,” said Io, and paused again.
“How did he appear? I really must know,” said the doctor.
“It was dreadful—too dreadful to tell,” faltered Io. “The hall was dark, except for light which came from a room that was sheltered from the wild wind. A form came—almost staggered in; I could scarcely see the face, but I knew that it was Oscar’s. ‘Oh, I am so glad that you have come!’ I exclaimed, running to meet him. ‘Are you glad?’ he cried, in a voice quite unlike his own. Oscar caught hold of both my wrists, as if to push me from him, stumbled, and fell down at my feet, almost dragging me down in his fall.”