CHAPTER XVIII
Two more hours passed before the lawyers and their client rose from their seats about the long table. Even then the consultation was not at an end. Sylvester and the Captain lunched together at the Central Club and sat in the smoking room until after four, talking earnestly. When they parted, the attorney was grave and troubled.
“All right, Captain Warren,” he said; “I’ll do it. And you may be right. I certainly hope you are. But I must confess I don’t look forward to my task with pleasure. I think I’ve got the roughest end.”
“It’ll be rough, there’s no doubt about that. Rough for all hands, I guess. And I hope you understand, Mr. Sylvester, that there ain’t many men I’d trust to do what I ask you to. I appreciate your doin’ it more’n I can tell you. Be as—as gentle as you can, won’t you?”
“I will. You can depend upon that.”
“I do. And I sha’n’t forget it. Good-by, till the next time.”
They shook hands. Captain Elisha returned to the boarding house, where he found a letter awaiting him. It was from Caroline, telling him of her engagement to Malcolm Dunn. She wrote that, while not recognizing his right to interfere in any way, she felt that perhaps he should know of her action. He did not go down to supper, and, when Pearson came to inquire the reason, excused himself, pleading a late luncheon and no appetite. He guessed he would turn in early, so he said. It was a poor guess.
Next morning he went uptown. Edwards, opening the door of the Warren apartment, was surprised to find who had rung the bell.
“Mornin’, Commodore!” hailed the captain, as casually as if he were merely returning from a stroll. “Is Miss Caroline aboard ship?”