"Was the gentleman an Englishman?"
"Yes," replied the woman; "he was an Englishman."
Then Emily opened the letter, and read:
"My Dear Miss Emily Crawford,,--The writer of this is Old Corrie, Miss Annette's sincere and faithful friend. He has seen your mother in Bournemouth, and has come here post haste to defeat a plot to ruin your dear young mistress's happiness. He has a gentleman with him little lady will be glad to see. If you get this letter to-night, don't be frightened if Old Corrie speaks to you as you go back to the Villa Bidaud. Not an hour should be lost to unmask the villain and secure little lady's happiness. You are a brave, good girl. If you don't get this letter till the morning, come at once to the back of the school-house, where you will see little lady's true friend,
"Old Corrie."
The letter had been composed partly by Basil and partly by Old Corrie, who had written it himself. Emily's eyes sparkled as she read. She bade the post-mistress good-night, thanked her for the letter, said it contained good news, and went away with a heart as light as a bird's. So light, indeed, that she carolled softly to herself as she stepped very, very slowly along the dark, narrow road, and the words she carolled were:
"I am Emily Crawford, and I have got your letter. Where are you, dear Old Corrie, dear Old Corrie, dear Old Corrie?" The song could not have been put into lines that would scan, but blither, happier words with true poetry in them, were never sung by human voice.
"Where are you, dear Old Corrie, dear Old Corrie, dear Old Corrie?" sang the girl, and paused and listened, and went on again, singing.
"Here I am," said a kindly voice, "and God bless you for a true heart!"
"Stop a moment, please," said the girl; who now that the reality was close by her side, could not help feeling startled. "Are you sure you are Old Corrie, my dear mistress's friend from Australia? The gentleman with a bear, you know?"