The Admiral's Daughter

by Margaret Stuart Lane

'Is his father living?'

Roger nodded.

'And his mother? I forget.'

'She died while Dick was at Blundell's.'

'Thank God for that!' said the Admiral in low tones.

'May you not just inquire into the matter and report?' came Roger's husky tones. 'I had rather any one had gone but Dick.'

'Jeffreys prefers to make his inquiries behind bolt and bar.'

'Look here, sir,' said Roger, his face as hard as his voice. 'I——' he stopped abruptly, then a minute later, with a brief 'Good morning,' he swung round, and before the Admiral could speak, was striding up the slope.

The old seaman leaned heavily on his staff as he stumbled down the hillside, jerking his wooden leg over the uneven ground. 'I could pray for an ague to seize me,' ran his thoughts, 'an asp to sting me, a draught to sicken my stomach. Anything to keep me from this hateful task. Poor Dick! And poor Roger! 'Twas a hard blow.'

Half way down the slope the Admiral stopped short, arrested by an uneasy thought. For the first time since Jeffreys had laid his commands upon him he had failed in his duty, betrayed his trust, spoken to another of business of sworn secrecy. Completely forgetful of his obligations, and overborne by the weight of personal association, he had talked like an idle woman.