“Hamish! He has nothing to forgive Mr. Galloway. It is on the other side.”
“I am uncharitable, I suppose,” remarked Hamish. “I cannot like Mr. Galloway’s treatment of Arthur.”
“But what is it you say about Roland Yorke and Port Natal?” interposed Mrs. Channing. “I do not understand.”
“Roland is really gone, mother. He has been in London these ten days, and it is expected that every post will bring news that he has sailed. Roland has picked up a notion somewhere that Port Natal is an enchanted land, converting poor men into rich ones; and he is going to try what it will do for him, Lord Carrick fitting him out. Poor Jenkins is sinking fast.”
“Changes! changes!” remarked Mr. Channing. “Go away only for two or three months, and you must find them on return. Some gone; some dying; some—”
“Some restored, who were looked upon as incurable,” interrupted Hamish. “My dear father, I will not have you dwell on dark things the very moment of your arrival; the time for that will come soon enough.”
Judy nearly betrayed all; and Constance’s aspect might have betrayed it, had the travellers been suspicious. She, Constance, came forward in the hall, white and trembling. When Mrs. Channing shook hands with Judy, she put an unfortunate question—“Have you taken good care of your boy?” Judy knew it could only allude to Charles, and for answer there went up a sound, between a cry and a sob, that might have been heard in the far-off college schoolroom. Hamish took Judy by the shoulders, bidding her go out and see whether any rattletraps were left in the fly, and so turned it off.
They were all together in the sitting-room—Mr. and Mrs. Channing, Hamish, Constance, Arthur, and Annabel; united, happy, as friends are and must be when meeting after a separation; talking of this and of that, giving notes of what had occurred on either side. Hamish showed himself as busy as the rest; but Hamish felt all the while upon a bed of thorns, for the hands of the timepiece were veering on for five, and he must get the communication over before Tom came in. At length Mrs. Channing went up to her room, accompanied by Constance; Annabel followed. And now came Hamish’s opportunity. Arthur had gone back to Mr. Galloway’s, and he was alone with his father. He plunged into it at once; indeed, there was no time for delay.
“Father!” he exclaimed, with deep feeling, his careless manner changing as by magic: “I have very grievous news to impart to you. I would not enter upon it before my mother: though she must be told of it also, and at once.”
Mr. Channing was surprised; more surprised than alarmed. He never remembered to have seen Hamish betray so much emotion. A thought crossed his mind that Arthur’s guilt might have been brought clearly to light.