The Sailor was shattered. But new strength had come to Athena. All the jealous, inherited forces of her being had rallied to the call of her distress.
"By the way." It was not Athena who was speaking now, but Miss Pridmore, whose local habitation was Queen Street, Mayfair. "I nearly forgot to tell you"—it was a clear note of gaiety—"a great event has happened. You shall have one guess."
There was not so much as half a guess in the sailorman.
"There's news of Klondyke. My mother had a letter from him this morning. It's his first word for nearly a year. He sent a postcard from Queenstown to say he will be home tomorrow, and that I must clean out of his own particular bedroom. Whenever he turns up and wherever he comes from, I have always to do that at a moment's notice."
"Where's he been this time?" asked the Sailor.
"Round the whole wide world, I believe."
"Working his passage?"
"Very likely. As soon as he arrives, you will have to come and see him. We are going to keep you as a surprise. Your meeting will be great fun, and you are to promise that Silvia and I will be allowed to see it. And you are to behave as if you were aboard the brigantine Excelsior—it will always be the brigantine Excelsior to me—and greet him in good round terms of the sea. Now promise, please ... and, of course, no one will mind if you swear. It will hardly be as bad as Uncle George in a temper."
XIV