Chapter Fifty One.
And all in Vain.
Guest stood looking at his friend for a few moments, half astonished, half annoyed.
“Look here,” he said at last, taking his arm and drawing it through his own, “we can’t talk freely in this place. Come out and have a cigar on the sands.”
Stratton made no reply, but walked out with him like a man who had been stunned, Guest taking the direction opposite to that in which the admiral’s temporary home lay. Then, stopping short by the ebbing sea, he drew out his cigar case and offered it; but it was waved aside.
“Quite right,” said Guest shortly; “we can’t smoke now. Look here, old fellow, I shouldn’t be your friend if I did not speak out when you were in the wrong. You must have known we were coming here, and you must see now that you have done, as I said, a cruel thing in coming; so give me your word as a man of honour that you will be ready to start with me in the morning first thing.”
“I tell you I did not know they were coming here,” said Stratton in a deep, solemn tone; “I tell you I did not follow you, and I tell you that I cannot leave here with you in the morning.”
“Then how in the world did you come here?”