“Yaas.”
“Then clearly I am not the person to whom it should be given. No; if you want to be reminded of this mighty matter, put this in your desk; if it gets into mine, you will never see it again; I will give you fair warning. There—hide it—quick—here they come.”
They did come, all but Mr. Bazalgette, who was at work in his study. Mr. Talboys came up to the piano and said gravely, “Miss Fountain, are you aware of the fate of the lugger—of the boat we went out in?”
Indeed I am. I have sent the poor widow some clothes and a little money.”
“I have only just been informed of it,” said Mr. Talboys, “and I feel under considerable obligations to Mr. Dodd.”
“The feeling does you credit.”
“Should you meet him, will you do me the honor to express my gratitude to him?”
“I would, with pleasure, Mr. Talboys, but there is no chance whatever of my seeing Mr. Dodd. His sister is staying in Market Street, No. 80, and if you would call on them or write to them, it would be a kindness, and I think they would both feel it.”
“Humph!” said Talboys, doubtfully. Here a servant stepped up to Miss Fountain. “Master would be glad to see you in his study, miss.”
“I have got something for you, Lucy. I know what it is, so run away with it, and read it in your own room, for I am busy.” He handed her a long sealed packet. She took it, trembling, and flew to her own room with it, like a hawk carrying off a little bird to its nest. She broke the enormous seal and took out the inclosure. It was David Dodd's commission. He was captain of the Rajah, the new ship of eleven hundred tons' burden.