Esther Newbold's absence, and the uncertain movements of the Deerhound, had proved an additional disaster for Patricia. It was only on the yacht putting in at New London, that Esther heard of her friend's trouble. A flaming poster outside the hotel had caught Mrs. Newbold's attention as she sauntered along the planked side-walk with Miss Darling, and the next moment they were both reading with horrified comprehension the bold sensational headings:
"Arrest of Miss Hildreth. Further developments expected shortly. Miss Hildreth's appearance in Ludlow Street, etc., etc."
These were the lines, in staring red letters, that first greeted Esther on her landing, after a three weeks' cruise; and their effect upon her can better be imagined than described. She was, however, essentially a person of action, and not an hour had passed before she, her husband, and Dick Darling, were on their way to New York, leaving the yacht and its guests to dispose of themselves.
That Patricia should be in such dire trouble, and alone, struck Esther as something so preposterous as to be almost incredible. Patricia, who counted her lovers and admirers by the score; who was always triumphant and victorious and worshipped wherever she appeared; whose smile was a reward highly coveted; whose favour was a prize eagerly courted—to be in prison, arrested on some crime too horrible even to be named. Alone; subjected to indignities and privations whose very meaning had been hitherto unknown to her easy, luxurious existence.
"Ah, do let us get to her at once," Esther had cried, imploringly, after she had poured out all the horrible story in George Newbold's astonished ears. "Only to think of her in that dreadful place; how she must suffer! And in this weather too, so hot and breathless as it is; and we never knowing all the time, but enjoying ourselves like brutes and heathens! Oh, Patricia, Patricia, is this what your wilfulness has brought you to? Oh, George, do make haste; and to think what a viper we entertained in that dreadful Count Mellikoff!"
"Well, he certainly hasn't turned out an angel," answered George, in his slow fashion. "For once, my dear Esther, the scripture has gone back on itself, for he was a stranger, and we made him very welcome; in return for which he took us in most neatly."
"Don't be profane," retorted his wife, "I'm sure this is no time for such joking. Isn't poor Patty a lesson to us all, and the evil that has overtaken her a judgment on our folly? But will you make haste? We shall lose the train if you are so deliberate. There's the gig along-side at last; good-bye, my Mimi, be very good and you shall come to Mumsey in a day or two."
She put her little daughter out of her arms, drew down her veil, and hurried off her husband and Miss Darling, without further leave-takings. Little Marianne stood on the deck straining her blue eyes for a last glimpse of the dancing boat, her white frock and golden hair fluttering in the light breeze.
Mr. Tremain found himself embarked on a fruitless expedition when he yielded to Dick Darling's entreaties and started off impetuously to visit Miss Hildreth in prison, and, as Dick evidently expected, wrest her there and then from its odious confines.
Indeed, had he been less overwhelmed by the calamity that had fallen upon Patricia, he would have saved himself the needless journey; for, although the evening was still young when they reached the gloomy building, no amount of bribery or corruption could effect an entrance at that hour. In vain Philip pleaded the exigencies of the case and his own legal position; the not too polite official was adamant to all entreaties. His instructions were decisive; any one wishing to see the prisoner must come at the proper hours, and with a proper permit.