I was about to follow and eject the intruder, when Mrs. de Castro came forward in a state of unusual excitement and with much nodding and gesticulation informed me in a mysterious whisper:
“A lame gentleman has called to see you. He came in a motor. I told him that you were out, but he said he would wait; and he has been sitting in the drawing-room for more than an hour.”
“Unfortunate wretch!” I thought to myself, “who can it be?”
Well, there was no use in speculating, I would soon see. Perhaps some friend of Ronnie’s? As I entered the drawing-room—which was dim even at noonday—a tall man, leaning on a stick, came hobbling towards me, and as he approached the door I saw, to my stupefaction, that it was Brian!
“Eva,” he exclaimed, “so I have found you!”
I was so overwhelmed with astonishment and joy that I was obliged to sit down, and then, like the poor, weak fool that I was, I immediately began to cry. Brian drew up a chair beside me, seated himself, and gripped my nearest hand.
“You did not suppose,” he said, “that I was going to allow you to slip out of my life like that, did you? I told you once upon a time that I was tenacious. I did not tell you then, but I say to you now, that the day we met on Slackland’s Flats—looking into your eyes, I beheld my destiny—and to my destiny I hold fast. I would have been here six weeks ago or less, but I was smashed up in a motor accident—concussion and a broken leg—simple fracture—and so they kept me in a nursing home, whether I liked it or not. As soon as I could stand I escaped and came out by the mail—and here I am!”
“How did you find me?” I faltered.
“Tell me first, are you glad to see me—as glad as Kipper?”
“Yes,” I answered, “so very, very glad—though your coming can make no difference in one way. Do tell me how you found that I was in Bangalore?”