"Yes."
"Why, Sibyl, my dear," broke in the voice of Mrs. Brantwell at this interesting juncture, in tones of deepest dismay, "do you know what Guy says? All three of you are to start off on a wild-goose chase to Europe, instead of settling down and behaving yourselves, as sensible Christians should. It's really quite abominable, and I, for one, have set my face against it; and I am sure, Sibyl, you'd agree with me."
"Really, my dear Mrs. Brantwell," said Sibyl, smiling, "I am afraid I cannot. I wish to go quite as much as Guy."
"You do?" exclaimed the minister's wife. "Well, upon my word, if this is not too provoking! It all comes of having a taste for rambling, and being male and female sailors, the whole of you! I always thought sailors were vagabonds on the face of the earth, without any settled place of abode, and I'm sure of it now. You don't expect to be able to go in three weeks, I should hope?"
"Yes, of course, I do. What's to hinder?" said Sibyl. "I am not a fine lady, you know, and don't require two or three dozen trunks packed before I start. So, Captain Campbell, though you did not do me the honor of consulting me before all your arrangements were made, I shall reserve my wounded pride and indignation to another season, and be ready to go with you at a moment's warning."
Mrs. Brantwell expostulated in vain. Sibyl would go; but promised faithfully to return within nine months, at farthest.
And so, three weeks later, our trio stood on the deck of the Evening Star, "outward bound."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE THUNDERBOLT FALLS.
"They spake not a word,
But, like dumb statues, or breathless stores,
Stared at each other, and looked deadly pale."—SHAKESPEARE