'I do not mean Felix; it was Edgar.'
'Edgar! You never have seen him, you know, dear,' said Wilmet, speaking softly, as one persuaded that he was recalling a delusion.
'I know that I never saw him at home; but he was in the train. He was the first to come to me; he said he would telegraph. Surely he did so?'
'That accounts for the correctness of the telegram!' said Mr. Harewood. 'I remember now that the wording was so well put, that it gave me hope that you must be quite yourself.'
'What was it?'
They could well tell him, for it had seemed branded in fire on their minds for days.
'Yes, that was his doing. I think I only called you her,' he said, smiling. 'I could trust to his knowing my her of hers.'
'But how did you know one another? Was it in the train?'
'No. Poor Frank Stone recognised me at Suez, and begged me to come with him on the engine. I remember his consulting me about representing the impracticability of some of his subordinates; and next after that I was somewhere on the stones, unable to stir hand or foot—not in pain, but a numbness and faintness all over me, with every sense preternaturally clear, as if I were all spirit. I made no doubt I was dying fast; and when some one came to see after me, I begged him to take down my telegram to my father while I could give it. I remember his start and cry when I gave my name. "Good Heavens!" he said. "You are not Jack? Wilmet's Jack?" and really, I hardly knew; my voice seemed to come from somewhere else; but I saw the face over me that belongs to you all.'
'And did you speak to him? But no, you were in no state for that.'