'She knows you, Sleath, by Jove!' exclaimed Mr. Dolly Dewsnap, becoming interested.
'Rather,' said Sleath, with an ugly wink. 'Are you not glad to see me so unexpectedly, Ellinor?'
'Glad!' said she, shudderingly.
Her old repugnance was now increased tenfold, and mingled with genuine terror. A man with such a bearing and with such an expression as she read in the cold blue eyes of Sleath, would, she knew, have no mercy, so she turned to Dewsnap; but there was little to encourage her in his leery and blasé, though rather rubicund, visage.
'Put me on shore, sir, I entreat you,' she said.
'It is impossible—utterly impossible, till the fog lifts,' said he, emphatically.
'I shall die!' exclaimed Ellinor, in a low, husky voice, as the light seemed to leave her eyes.
She put her tremulous hands to her slender throat, for a painful lump seemed to rise there—nay, was there—catching her breath, while this meeting again, under all the circumstances, with Sir Redmond Sleath seemed 'one of those strange and almost incredible things which, however, we meet with every day in that marvellous volume of romance, real life.'
She cowered and shrank back before Sleath as if he were some wild animal, which only excited in him a spirit of anger and banter, while his friend Dewsnap knew not what to think of the situation as yet.
'Altona agrees with you,' said the baronet, jauntily. 'You are handsomer than ever. Womanhood gains instead of loses by maturity. But don't be so devilish stuck up! And what were you doing in Altona?'