Mrs. Marven wondered at the girl's reticence. Yet she waited in patience for the confidence which was not yet given. Sooner or later she felt it would be given to her. Her husband had told her of Guy's conversation with him. She gathered that no ordinary blow had shattered her darling's romance, and, though she longed to counsel and to comfort, to mingle her tears with Meriel's, yet she did not press her for the confidence which was withheld.
Yet, though the girl suffered, she strove to put her misery from her, to busy herself with trivial duties. She went to the garden, but she could not remain amongst the flowers. Her glance fell on a rose Guy had tied. Now it was battered by the storm, and shapeless—like her romance. She passed through the garden, across the meadow, and on to the sea-wall. She desired to be alone, that was all. She strolled idly along, unseeing anything but the tide slowly rising over the mud, quite unconscious of the approach of an acquaintance.
Mr. Hildebrand Flurscheim had recognised Meriel while yet some distance away, and had hastened his footsteps. He had wondered that she was alone, but congratulated himself on the fact, for then Guy would probably be alone, too. He wanted a private conference with Guy. He, too, had been troubled greatly in his thoughts during the previous day and night. Ever since Cornelius Jessel had revealed to him the fact that one item of his missing property was in Guy's possession, he had been rejoicing in the thought that vengeance on his spoliators was soon to be within his reach. Not that he wholly trusted the valet's word. The shadow-man was not possessed of a confidence-inspiring personality, but the man had not asked for any cash on account for the information he had furnished. Flurscheim judged that the informer must have been quite convinced as to the truth of his information, or he would not have been so confiding. Flurscheim had arranged with him to secure the miniature so that he might identify it. After that his course would be simple. The police would do the rest. He blessed the lucky chance which had brought him to recognise the strange likeness which existed between Meriel and the missing miniature. But for that curious coincidence he might never have had the opportunity of getting on the track of his missing treasures.
Meriel had been correct in her intuition when she read another meaning in his warning to Guy to beware of the approaching storm. He could not resist the jest. But then the events which had immediately followed played havoc with his plans and projects.
Guy had saved his life. Would the man who had robbed him have done that? Hildebrand Flurscheim set great store by his life. When he felt himself falling, when the water closed over his head, a great horror possessed him. He struggled madly, blindly, against the fearful thing. Then a strong hand had gripped him. He had still struggled until dimly he had comprehended that a cool voice was commanding him to be still, telling him that he was safe. The words repeated again and again had impressed themselves upon his consciousness. He had ceased to struggle. He had trusted entirely to the strong hand which supported him. Then, he knew not how, other hands had lifted him up and taken him into a boat. He had opened his eyes and seen Guy clamber up over the stern, had heard him say, "Not much the matter, eh, Mr. Flurscheim?"
The experience seemed to have lasted hours. He said little, but he had insisted, when Guy was put aboard the Witch, on shaking the young man's hand. And when, afterwards, the horror of those moments returned to him there was renewed in his mind the feeling of gratitude to his preserver. He was glad that it was in his power to repay in some measure the debt of gratitude he owed. Guy had given his life. Well, he could give Guy liberty. Yet he was not altogether satisfied in his mind. He had no reason for thinking that Guy had worked single-handed, and he saw no reason why other parties should be participants in his gratitude. Yet, rather than Guy should suffer, all the guilty parties should escape. Certainly the experience of being at hand-grips with death had wrought a wonderful change in Mr. Hildebrand Flurscheim's views, for it was with this determination in his mind that he left his yacht, intending to call at the Hall and tell Guy of Jessel's communication, and of his determination not to act upon the information.
Not until he was a yard away and he spoke, did Meriel recognise the connoisseur. A shadow of annoyance crossed her face. This man seemed to her to be the cause, though a perfectly innocent cause, of Guy's undoing. She bowed slightly, and would have passed by, but Flurscheim stood in her path.
"Pardon me, Miss Challys," he said, "can you tell me where I can find Mr. Guy Hora? I have something of importance to say to him."
There was a shade of agitation in his voice. Meriel was startled. Again the thought came to her, "Did he suspect Guy? Was that the explanation of the presence of himself and his yacht at Whitsea?"
She strove to answer steadily.