Mr. Warner stood there, his enormous bulk seeming to fill the corridor.
"I ran out to the Orient office, it's no distance from here," he said, beaming at them. "The Ohio comes in at ten o'clock to-morrow morning. And there's a wireless for you!"
He held out a thin brown envelope. Then he was gone, and the door shut, and Mrs. Lester was tearing at the envelope with fingers that shook.
"All well. Love to you both."
"Dickie!" she said, catching at the boy; "Dickie." They clung together for a moment, and the flimsy paper that was like a dear voice speaking after twelve months of silence fluttered to the ground between them.
CHAPTER VII.
THE "OHIO" COMES IN.
Dick Lester and his mother never had any very clear idea of how they passed that day in Perth. Lunch filled up an hour; then they took a hansom and drove to the beautiful public gardens, and wandered about them, and at intervals took out their precious wireless and read it again, as if expecting to find some new remark tucked in among its six brief words. In the evening Mr. Warner took them to a theatre—Mrs. Warner declining to be again separated from the twinses. Presumably it was a good play, for Mr. Warner and Merle seemed to enjoy it, but neither Mrs. Lester nor Dick could have told you what it was about. The wireless also went to the theatre, in Dick's pocket. He had asked his mother if he might keep it.
"Rather a curio, when you've never seen a wireless before, you see," he explained, in an elaborately off-hand manner. Mrs. Lester had nodded comprehendingly, a little sad at heart, for she would certainly have liked to keep it herself. Dick went to bed, declaring that he could not sleep; his eyes so bright that Mrs. Lester was half afraid that his belief was true, but when, half an hour later, she peeped into his room he was lying peacefully with his head on his arm, already far away in the land of dreams. She sat down in a chair near his open window, feeling the need of companionship, if only that of a sleeping little son. It was moonlight; from the high window she could catch a glimpse of the river, a streak of silver. Beyond it her mind flashed out to sea, where a great ship ploughed landwards, and on its deck a man paced up and down, gripping his pipe in his teeth, and striving with his mind to bridge the few miles that yet lay between him and his dear ones. Possibly he succeeded, for thoughts often fly further than we know. After an hour Mrs. Lester's wakefulness left her, and she stole to bed, drowsy and content.
Breakfast in the morning was a scramble, for they woke late, and were both quite unable to think of anything so ordinary as food. Dick put salt into his tea and sugar on his fish, and would probably have consumed both without noticing anything amiss had not the waiter intervened in horror. Mr. Warner ordered a car for them, and very soon they were flying down the road, that seemed oddly familiar. It was early; but then, as Dick said, the Ohio might be early too. Dick was not acquainted with the clock-work methods of mail steamers. He dashed breathlessly on to the wharf at Fremantle to ask if the Ohio were in, and was met with bored surprise by a man in a blue jersey, who said, "The Ohio? But she don't come in till ten"—much as a railway porter might answer if you demanded the Sydney express an hour too soon. Dick returned ruefully to the car.