“Did he?” replied Mr. Channing. “How did Hamish know it might be seen?”
“From the guide-books, I suppose; or from hearsay. Hamish seems to know everything. What a good passage we have had!”
“Ay,” said Mr. Channing. “What I should have done in a rough sea, I cannot tell. The dread of it has been pressing on me as a nightmare since our voyage was decided upon.”
Mrs. Channing smiled. “Troubles seldom come from the quarter we anticipate them.”
Later, when Mrs. Channing was once more leaning over the side of the vessel, a man came up and put a card into her hand, jabbering away in German at the same time. The Custom House officers had come on board then.
“Oh, dear, if Constance were only here! It is for interpreting that we shall miss her,” thought Mrs. Channing. “I am sorry that I do not understand you,” she said, turning to the man.
“Madame want an hot-el? That hot-el a good one,” tapping the card with his finger, and dexterously turning the reverse side upward, where was set forth in English the advantages of a certain Antwerp inn.
“Thank you, but we make no stay at Antwerp; we go straight on at once.” And she would have handed back the card.
No, he would not receive it. “Madame might be wanting an hot-el at another time; on her return, it might be. If so, would she patronize it? it was a good hot-el; perfect!”
Mrs. Channing slipped the card into her reticule, and searched her directions to see what hotel Hamish had indicated, should they require one at Antwerp. She found it to be the Hôtel du Parc. Hamish certainly had contrived to acquire for them a great fund of information; and, as it turned out, information to be relied on.