Madame Volney sighed, saying—
“The Puissant was the last ship my noble but unfortunate husband commanded; it is somewhat strange that we should be proceeding to England with her.”
Captain O’Loughlin joined the party, and made an attempt to express his sorrow at seeing them all looking so pale; but as the day wore on, and a light breeze sprung up from the south, they all began to get gradually much better.
Little Mabel seemed to regain some little portion of spirit; the news of her mother’s safety and the prospect of meeting her in England cheered her. And as the sickness wore off—for sometimes children suffer less than adults—she felt a desire to walk about the deck, William Thornton aiding and assisting her, and chatting to her of her future prospects, making the day pass pleasantly enough; the Babet working to windward under a light breeze, but with a very threatening sky, heavy masses of clouds rising rapidly in the south-east quarter.
After the ladies had retired, our hero and his Commander kept pacing the deck in conversation.
“What are you to do with your little charge,” demanded Captain O’Loughlin, “when we reach Plymouth? I had not time to ask you before sailing.”
“Why, you see,” returned the midshipman, “Lord Hood had a long conference with Howard Etherton, which satisfied his lordship that Howard’s father, Sir Godfrey Etherton, was little Mabel’s uncle. Though Howard did all he could to persuade the Admiral that Mr. Granby Arden was never married—but his lordship said he knew better—he did not pretend to say that he knew he left children, but he felt convinced that the contents of the casket given me by Mabel’s mother would sufficiently explain the matter. ‘You are very young, Master Thornton,’ said the Admiral to me afterwards, ‘to be concerned in an affair of this sort; but as it appears the wish of the Duchesse de Coulancourt that, young as you are, you should have the care of this child and this casket, I will not alter her desires. When you reach Plymouth or Portsmouth, proceed to London, take the casket, which is sealed, to Mr. Joseph Stanmore, my solicitor, and a most eminent man; give him also this letter,’ handing one to me, ‘and then be guided by him.’ Thus you see, O’Loughlin, my course is properly chalked out. Mr. Stanmore lives in Cavendish Square; so, leaving Mabel with Madame Volney, I shall go up to London as soon as we reach Plymouth.”
Captain O’Loughlin seemed buried in thought; at last he looked up, saying—
“You are in love with Agatha Volney!”
The midshipman burst into so loud and hearty a laugh, that it startled the man at the wheel:—