"Good-bye, and God bless you, Walworth, for all you have done."
After he had left us Janet and I sat talking late into the night, and when we separated at her bedroom door, it was with a heartfelt wish that "good luck" might attend us on the morrow.
Next morning the long hours seemed as if they would never pass. All my personal arrangements had been made some days before, and my luggage sent off to the yacht at Portsmouth, labelled "Captain R. Wakeman," so there was absolutely nothing at all for me to do to kill the time till we were due at the house. At twelve o'clock, sharp to the minute, Janet and I had lunch, and at half-past, set off in different directions, taking particular care to see that we were not followed.
We reached the house almost simultaneously and were received at the door by an irreproachable maid-servant, who did not seem in the least surprised to see us. Walworth we found in a room at the back, this time irreproachably got up as an old family butler. My sister was already dressed in her nurse's apparel, and very sweet and womanly she looked in it. In the passage, outside the one room which had been made habitable, was a curious sort of stretcher, the use of which I could not determine.
"That is the bed place upon which we shall carry your poor invalid wife out to the carriage," said Walworth. "You see it is quite ready for use."
"I see. And when am I to make my toilette? I have brought the clothes you mentioned with me, in this parcel."
"That's right. I was half afraid you might bring a hand-bag, which would have had to be left behind and would very possibly have been recognised. Now I think you had better come into the other room and let me make you up at once."
I followed him, and when I emerged again a quarter of an hour later, I might very well have stood for a portrait of a representative middle-aged English naval man on the retired list. My hair was iron gray, as also were my close cropped beard and moustache; the very cut of my clothes and the fashion of my neck cloth seemed to set forth my calling as plain as any words could speak. In this get-up I had not the least fear that any one would recognise me. By this time it was nearly two o'clock, and the case was to commence at half-past.
"Is everything prepared?" I asked Walworth, for about the hundredth time, as we adjourned to the sitting-room.
"Everything," he answered, with the same patient equanimity. "Come into the yard and see them harness the horses."