"There's no telling what may happen in the future," said Old Corrie. "What to-day seems impossible to-morrow comes to pass. To beat one's head against a stone wall because things aren't as we wish them to be is the height of foolishness, but it's my opinion that going on steadily doing one's duty, working manfully and doing what's right and square, is the best and surest way to open out the road we'd like to tread. Your new mate, Mr. Chaytor, hasn't disturbed us, and I must do him the justice to say that he shows sense and discretion."
"He is one in a thousand," said Basil, "and it is impossible for me to express to you how sorry I am that you have not taken kindly to each other."
"It does happen sometimes, but not often, that men are mistaken in their likings and dislikings, but we'll not argue the point. Now I've got to tell you how things stand at the plantation. There was an inquest on the body of Mr. Anthony Bidaud, doctors and lawyers being called in by Mr. Gilbert, and the verdict was that he died of natural causes. There being no will, Mr. Gilbert took legal possession, as guardian to his niece under age. He decides that it will not be good for her to remain where she is; but must be educated as a lady, and brought up as one. That, says Mr. Gilbert, can't be done on the plantation; it must be done in a civilized country. Consequently the plantation must be sold. With lawyers paid to push things on, three months' work had been done in three weeks. A purchaser has been found, deeds drawn up, money paid, and next Monday they're off; Mr. Gilbert Bidaud, his sister, name unknown, and the little lady."
"Hot haste, indeed," said Basil.
"To which neither you nor I can have anything to say legally."
"It is so, unhappily. And then to Europe?"
"And then to Europe. I am telling you what the little lady tells me. I can't go beyond that."
"Of course not. But does she not know to what part of Europe?"
"She knows nothing more. He keeps his mouth shut; you can't compel him to open it. There are cases, Master Basil, in which honesty is no match for roguery; this is one. Mr. Gilbert Bidaud has the law on his side, and can laugh openly at you. Now, the little lady was here yesterday. 'No news of Basil?' she asked. 'No news of Basil,' I said. 'Is he dead, do you think?' she whispered, with a face like snow. 'No,' I said stoutly; 'don't you go on imagining things of that sort. He's alive, and will give a satisfactory account of himself when he comes back.' I spoke confidently to keep up her heart, though I had misgivings of you. 'I shall be here to-morrow,' she said, 'and every day till we leave the plantation.' She has contrived cleverly, hasn't she, to slip them as she does?"
"Then I shall see her soon!" said Basil, eagerly.