He turned away his eyes with a shudder, fighting hard to keep his thoughts from the horrors of that night; but he was doomed to have them emphasised, for, just before reaching the foot of the steep way, the little party came suddenly upon the great burly fisherman, who had undertaken to sail across to Saint Malo with the fugitive that night.
“Mornin’, master,” he said.
Vine turned ghastly pale, and his brain reeled; but he soon recovered himself.
“Louise, Madelaine, my children, go on, and I will follow.”
Louise looked at him appealingly; but he was perfectly firm, and she went on with her friend.
“I fear, in the midst of my trouble, Perrow, that I had forgotten my engagement with you.”
“Like enough, master, no wonder. There was no hurry.”
“Yes, but there is,” said Vine slowly. “Will you come to my house to-night or to-morrow morning? and I’ll give you my cheque to take to the bank.”
“For how much?” said the man eagerly.
“One hundred pounds; the amount I promised you.”