"But what are you going for, Roland?" was the very natural question that ensued.
"To see old Galloway," he replied, standing by her on the hearthrug where Mr. Greatorex and Henry Ollivera had been standing but just before. "I think Galloway must have given--at least--that is--that he could find some clue to Arthur's movements, if he were well pumped; and I am going to do it. Somebody ought to go; Hamish won't, and so it falls upon me."
Annabel made no answer.
"I shan't like appearing in the old place," he candidly resumed. "I said I never would until I could take a fortune with me; but one has to do lots of things in this world that go against the grain; one soon lives long enough to find that boasting turns out to be nothing but emptiness."
"Oh Roland!" she said, as the utter fallacy of the expectation struck upon her, "I fear it will be a lost journey. Had Mr. Galloway been able to furnish ever so small a clue, he would have been sure to send it without being asked."
"That's what Hamish says. But I mean to try. I'd be off today to the North Pole as soon as to Helstonleigh, if I thought it would find him. And to think, Annabel, that while he was being kept out of the way by fate or ruffians, I was calling him proud!--and neglectful!--and hard-hearted! I'll never forgive myself that. If, through lack of exertion on my part, he should not be found, I might expect his ghost to come back and stand at the foot of my bed every night."
"But--Roland--you have not given up all hope?" she questioned, her clear, honest hazel eyes cast up steadily and beseechingly at his.
"Well, I don't know. Sometimes I think he's sure to turn up all right, and then down I go again into the depths of mud. Last night I dreamt he was alive and well, and I was helping him up some perpendicular steps from a boat moored under Waterloo Bridge. When I awoke I thought it was true; oh! I was so glad! Even after I remembered, it seemed a good omen. Don't be down-hearted, Annabel. Once, at Port Natal, a fellow I knew was lost for a year. His name was Crow. We never supposed but what he was dead, but he came to life again with a good crop of red whiskers, and said he'd only been travelling. I say! what's the matter with your eyes?"
The sudden question rather confused her. She answered evasively.
"You've been crying, Annabel. Now, you tell me what the grievance was. If Mrs. Bede Greatorex makes you unhappy--good gracious! and I can't help you, or take you out of here! I do not know when I shall: I don't get on at all. It's enough to make a man swear."