“I should say yes: in that,” said Lady O’Hara, who spoke in a deep, subdued voice.
“Which—which?” cried Nic.
“That one, with the union jack at the stern.”
“What, with the men in white?”
“Yes; it is the boat from the man-o’-war yonder. The governor is in it, please God; and your father, as his friend, will most likely be with him.”
Just then one of the officers handed her a telescope, and went forward to order up a guard of men to receive the governor.
Lady O’Hara did not seem herself. She was no longer the bluff; outspoken woman, but appeared trembling and nervous, as she stood resting with one hand upon the rail.
“I can’t use it to-day, Nic, boy,” she said. “You try the glass.”
Nic took it, rested it on the rail, had a long look, and focussed and re-focussed it, without avail.
“I—I can’t see with it,” he said huskily. “It is so dim. The glass is not clear.”