“Ye—s,” she answered, but with hesitation.
“And as it’s not even in sight yet, madame had much better go home and not wait, for the air is getting chilly,” again spoke Flore.
“We can’t see whether it’s in sight or not,” said her mistress. “It is dark out at sea.”
“Shall I wait here with you, Mrs. Fennel?” asked Charley in his good nature.
“Oh no, no; no, thank you,” she answered quickly. “If it does not come in soon, we shall go home.”
He wished them good-night, and went onwards.
“She is hoping the boat may bring that mysterious brute, Fennel,” remarked Charles to his companion.
“Brute, you call him?”
“He is no better than one, to leave his sick wife alone so long,” responded Charles in hearty tones. “She has picked up an idea, I hear, that the house is haunted, and shakes in her shoes in it from morning till night.”