Long after his usual lunch time Camperdown arrived home to find Stargarde and Zilla waiting for him—the latter hanging about her half—sister with red eyes and glances of suppressed adoration.
“Have been all over the town,” said Camperdown; “there’s no trace of Frispi to be had. He went to his lodging, gathered up his few belongings, and left. The police are on his track——”
“He will not be found,” said Zilla quietly and despairingly. “He knows how to run away.”
“I propose,” said Camperdown, seating himself at the table, “to have something to eat now. Subsequently, to take my wife and Zilla and Mrs. Trotley for a drive to Cow Bay. Don’t carry your bathing suit, Zilla; it’s too late in the day for a plunge in the breakers. We’ll have a run over the sands. Then I propose two weeks hence to take my wife and Zilla vagabondizing—that is, in the earliest sense of the word. We’ll stroll about this continent and see if we can’t pick up some trace of the runaway——”
He was interrupted by Zilla, who precipitated herself into his arms.
“A little girl with a sleeping conscience is rather a ticklish possession, isn’t she?” he said, addressing his smiling wife over Zilla’s bent head. “A little girl with an awakened conscience is something very precious and must be treated with very great care.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE GHOST FLOWER
“Me no diggum up,” said Joe decidedly. He stood knee deep in pale green ferns growing among heavy shadows formed by the interlaced branches of trees overhead, his eyes fixed on a group of etherially white flowers springing up from the richest of leaf mould on a mossy bank at a little distance from him.
Vivienne knelt by the wax-like cluster of flower interrogation points in speechless delight, while Armour stood above her saying in quiet amusement, “Why don’t you dig it up, Joe?”
“Callum ghos’ flower,” said Joe doggedly; “spirits angry when touchum. Come ’way, Miss Debbiline.”