“If half I know be true,” said Bayle indignantly, “the place is a horror. It is a scandal to our country and our boasted Christianity!”
“What, Botany Bay?”
“The whole region of the penal settlement.”
“There, there, Bayle! you are too easy, man! You infect me. I shall begin to repent of my share in sending that fellow out of the country. Let’s get back. We must have been out here an hour.”
“An hour and a half,” said Bayle, looking at his watch. “Yes; we will ask if they can see us to-night. We will not press it if they prefer to be alone.”
Thisbe must have been in the passage, the door was opened so quickly. Her face was harder than ever, and her moustache, by the light of the candle upon the bracket, looked like a dark line drawn by a smutty finger. There was a defiant look, too, in her eyes; but it was evident that she had been crying, as she ushered the friends into the room where Mrs Hallam was sittings with Julia kneeling at her feet and resting her arms upon her mother’s knees.
Both rose as Bayle and Sir Gordon entered.
“We only wish to say good-night,” said the latter apologetically.
“I have been expecting you both for some time,” said Mrs Hallam calmly; but it was plain to her friends that she was fighting hard to master her emotion.
Sir Gordon signed to Bayle to speak, but the latter remained closed of lip, and the silence became most painful.