'Sleep!' thought Venetia to herself; but to please her mother she retired.
'Good-night, my child,' said Lady Annabel. 'The moment any one arrives, you shall be aroused.'
CHAPTER XI.
Venetia, without undressing, lay down on her bed, watching for some sound that might give her hope of George's return. Dwelling on every instant, the time dragged heavily along, and she thought that the night had half passed when Pauncefort entered her room, and she learnt, to her surprise, that only an hour had elapsed since she had parted from her mother. This entrance of Pauncefort had given Venetia a momentary hope that they had returned.
'I assure you, Miss Venetia, it is only an hour,' said Pauncefort, 'and nothing could have happened. Now do try to go to sleep, that is a dear young lady, for I am certain sure that they will all return in the morning, as I am here. I was telling my lady just now, I said, says I, I dare say they are all very wet, and very fatigued.'
'They would have returned, Pauncefort,' said Venetia, 'or they would have sent. They are not at Sarzana.'
'La! Miss Venetia, why should they be at Sarzana? Why should they not have gone much farther on! For, as Vicenzo was just saying to me, and Vicenzo knows all about the coast, with such a wind as this, I should not be surprised if they were at Leghorn.'
'O Pauncefort!' said Venetia, 'I am sick at heart!'
'Now really, Miss Venetia, do not take on so!' said Pauncefort; 'for do not you remember when his lordship ran away from the abbey, and went a gipsying, nothing would persuade poor Mrs. Cadurcis that he was not robbed and murdered, and yet you see he was as safe and sound all the time, as if he had been at Cherbury.'
'Does Vicenzo really think they could have reached Leghorn?' said
Venetia, clinging to every fragment of hope.