“And so do I; but do you know you are talking a lot of dreamy nonsense, such as is most distressing at a time like this. We haven’t got anybody near the end. Oh, what nonsense! It’s all old-fashioned silliness.”
Claude shook her head.
“No,” she said, “there is something in it all, Mary, and to-night it is as if some great trouble were coming upon us.”
“Are you going to set up for a prophetess, dear?”
“Shall we go down and see how my father is, Mary?”
“And insult Dr Asher by setting his commands at defiance. No; I am going to sit here patiently till morning, unless he sends word to us that uncle has woke up, and that he has gone to bed like a Christian. Claude, dear, your father must be a very unhappy man.”
“Then it is our duty to try and make him happy.”
“By doing everything he wishes us to do?”
Claude felt the hot blood flush into her cheeks again and she made no reply. She only turned to look out at the broad path of light stretching far away over the sea, and, as the water murmured about the rocks, it was as if some solemn spell of silence had fallen upon them, influencing Mary so that she ceased speaking, leaving the bantering remarks ready, unsaid. Claude put her arm around her cousin, and laid her head upon her shoulder, thinking of the words that had been spoken, and of why they were sitting up, till her heart almost sank, and the sea began to be to her full of strange whisperings and portents of some trouble to come.
And so hour after hour glided by, till they were chilled by the cold night air, but neither moved till they were electrified by a quick, light tapping on the door, which was opened before they could reach it, and from out of the darkness came a husky voice which sounded familiar.