But the captain had determined that there should be a little display of emotion, and therefore when the Petrel ran into the little rude harbor he hurried forward and sprang on to her deck, his two hands outstretched to grasp Violet and Mrs. Mildmay with his face pale and grateful.
With soft but emphatic gratitude and anxiety he went from one to the other of the ladies, while Leicester, in command of the vessel, was seeing that all was made secure.
When he was free he turned to where Fitz and Bertie were assisting the ladies to alight and eyed the captain with a calm, keen scrutiny.
"Alarmed, were you, Captain Murpoint?" he said, in his grand, clear voice. "What would you have been if you had been fated to be with us?" and a slight sneer curled his lip.
"Not so much alarmed or so anxious," said the captain, with a smile that was a finished piece of calm reproach. "For I should at least have had the satisfaction of sharing in the danger of my friends."
Leicester smiled grimly and stooped to lend Violet his hand over the gangway.
"A poor satisfaction, captain. There was not much danger, or if there was it did not last long. The Petrel will see out many a worse summer gale than this. But I am sorry," he added, addressing Mrs. Mildmay with a much more eager tone in his voice, "I am so sorry you should have been so alarmed and made so uncomfortable! And—ah, here is the carriage," he said. And he ran up the beach as the carriage Jem had ordered drove up to the parade.
He held the door as Mrs. Mildmay and Violet entered, but though his dark eyes sought hers Violet's made him no return, and her "good-by" was as dreamy and indistinct as her gaze.
Leicester returned to the Petrel to assist Lady Ethel, in a state of mind not enviable.
"I'll drive you home, Lady Ethel, if you are too tired," he said, "but if you are not my mother will be delighted beyond measure to make you comfortable. What do you say, Fitz? Will you take refuge with us for to-night? I'll ride over to Coombe Lodge and set Lady Lackland's fears at rest."