There were letters for Ethel and Rose, from Jack and Lucy Page, and other dear friends at Acton-Rennel, full of home gossip, all of vast interest to them now; and there were some very business-like documents "for papa," who carefully wiped his gold spectacles prior to reading them; while Morley, who had not a friend in England, felt bitterly there was nothing for him; so he slunk, as he thought, unnoticed on deck, to watch the bustle of the port and shipping, and to forget even himself, if he could, for a time.
The contents of his two first letters certainly made Mr. Basset stare very much, and wipe his glasses again, ere he read them a second time, and fairly took in the full meaning of their contents.
They were from his old friend, the M.P. for Acton-Rennel, who had procured him the now useless judgeship, and from his solicitor in Westminster, informing him that, by two most unexpected deaths, Ethel and Rose, in right of their deceased mother, had become rich—quite heiresses in fact, of not less than three thousand pounds each, yearly, in government securities and other investments; full particulars of which would be forwarded by the next mail.
Ethel sat for a time like one bewitched, on hearing this.
Then, after Mr. Basset had explained it all to her, she hurried on deck to where Morley Ashton, with his head between his hands, was gazing moodily and dreamily over the gunwale, at the slime and ooze under the ship's counter; and caring little whether she were seen or not, she stole one arm tenderly round his neck, and whispered in his ear the story of their good fortune, adding that now she could reward him for all his love and faith, and for all he had endured: and more than once she had to repeat all this, ere she was fully understood by the poor bewildered fellow.
Thus, from a state of uncertainty, doubt, utter despondency at times, was Morley Ashton rewarded, indeed, for all he had undergone. The wheel of fortune had revolved completely in his favour, and he felt raised "to the seventh heaven" by Ethel's happy news.
So they were now safe, rich, and happy, with their dearest wishes about to be realised!
All around them seemed to be joyous and sunshiny. All so quiet, so still, and yet such happiness was theirs!
Their double separation, the sorrow of Morley's supposed death, his detention at Rio, and his sufferings on the wreck; the mutiny, and the piratical Malays; the entire past, with all its terrible contingencies—where was it now?
Gone indeed, and to be forgotten!