"You have forgotten the guineas," said Granger, noticing that she had let them lie unheeded where he had originally placed them.
"The guineas!" the girl cried. "The guineas! His money! I will never take them--never touch them. Except," she cried, seizing on the packet, "to fling them into the river. Never! Never!"
"Be not foolish. They are yours. Can you devise no means to which you can put them?"
"Ay," she said a moment later, and after thinking deeply while she stood gazing down at the table. "Ay, I can. Kitty's grave is a lonely, desolate one. Now it shall be brightened and made cheerful with the money of the man who drove her to death. Come," and as she spoke she took the packet and dropped it into her pocket. "Come, I must get back."
So Lewis Granger took the girl back to Brunswick Stairs and sent her off by a shore boat to the Mignonne, he learning on shore, and she when she, stepped on board the frigate, that Sir Geoffrey had set out an hour ago to board the Nederland, so as to take from out of her some of the men who were now so much required.
"For," said Ariadne, whom she found in the state cabin, "Sir Edward Hawke sails in a fortnight for Torbay, thence to set out and attack the French. And, Anne, the Mignonne goes as one of the frigates. Oh, Anne!"
"It must be so. Be brave, darling. Sir Geoffrey is a sailor, as your father and my father were. It is duty. But--Ariadne--be cheered also with one small thing. Sir Geoffrey will be back to-night in an hour."
"In an hour?"
"Ay, in an hour. The Nederland has sailed."
"Sailed! With all those wretched trepanned creatures on board!"