"I trust you will forgive me if you think I have acted indiscreetly," rejoined Arnold.
"Oh, say no more about it," was Mr. Quinion's reply. "When do you return to town?"
"By the next train, sir; at three-ten p.m."
"In that case you have no time to lose, so I will not detain you any longer. Good day."
And in less than half an hour Arnold was speeding back to London, with no very comfortable feelings. He had failed to produce the impression expected, or to change the situation of affairs; and his future course did not yet clearly shape itself to his mind.
Of course, the fact of his visit to Broadstone was known in London, but every attempt to extract from him the object of his journey failed. To all and sundry of his inquirers the uniform answer was—"Only a little private business."
CHAPTER III.
THE QUAY AT ANTWERP.
"Blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim bark!
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard."
Julius Cæsar, Act V. sc. i.
A midsummer sun was already shining upon the lazily flowing waters of the Scheldt, as the Cathedral clock rang out the hour of six; and the sweet-toned carillons, for which its tower is almost world renowned, had not yet ceased their chimes as the good ship Kestrel, which lay moored at the quay-side, began to sound her most unmusical whistle, preparatory to moving into midstream, outward bound for the English coast.