“You are right perhaps, and I ought to have spoken to my father at once; but since I have waited so long, it may be as well to wait till the ‘John Seaton’ comes in—and I must have patience—like the rest of those who wait.”
“Are you sure he went? My son said nothing to me about George—poor dear Geordie?” said Mrs Calderwood, with a sudden rush of tears.
Jean sat down on the other side of the table and leaned her head on her hand.
“Did he not? Still I think he must have gone—or what can have become of him?”
“Who told you he went? It is strange that you have never spoken of it all this time. Why do you think that your brother sailed in the ‘John Seaton’?”
“Is it strange? Perhaps I was quite wrong. But I did not know till afterwards. Robbie Saugster brought word that day to Saughleas, but I had gone to the town. That night he came back again, but it was too late. The ship had sailed, and we had been at the high rocks to see her pass, May and I—never thinking whom she was carrying away.”
“And had Robbie seen him?”
“No. I never asked him. I don’t think he knew. It was in a note that I got from—your son.”
“And what did he say?” asked Mrs Calderwood in a little. “He said I was to come to the pier head before the ship sailed, and that perhaps I might be able to persuade my brother—though he could not. But he came too late. The ship had sailed.”
“Well, we can only wait now till she comes home again.”