"The excitement and hard work of his existence on board ship may work a cure," she thought, trying to be hopeful. "It is very possible that the calm monotony of a landsman's life may have produced a bad effect upon his brain. I can only trust in Providence—I can only pray night and day for the welfare of him I love so fondly."
And so they parted. George Jernam left his wife with sadness in his heart; but it was a kind of sadness in which love had little share.
"I have thought too much of my own happiness," he said to himself, "and I have left my brother's death unavenged. Have I forgotten the time when he carried me along the lonely sea-shore in his loving arms? Have I forgotten the years in which he was father, mother—all the world to me? No; by heaven! I have not. The time has come when the one thought of my life must be revenge—revenge upon the murderer of my brother, whosoever he may be."
* * * * *
CHAPTER XX.
ON GUARD.
Mr. Andrew Larkspur, the police-officer, took up his abode in Percy
Street a week after his interview with Lady Eversleigh.
For a fortnight after he became an occupant of the house in which she lived, Honoria received no tidings from him. She knew that he went out early every morning, and that he returned late every night, and this was all that she knew respecting his movements.
At the end of the fortnight, he came to her late one evening, and begged to be favoured with an audience.
"I shall want at least two hours of your time, ma'am," he said; "and, perhaps, you may find it fatiguing to listen to me so late at night. If you'd rather defer the business till to-morrow morning—"