An exclamation half of distress, half of fear. Arthur had risen from his chair, and stood, the picture of excitement, his face and lips blanching.
“What is the matter?” they exclaimed.
“Roland—the ship—Roland”—and there Arthur stopped, apparently unable to say more.
“Oh, it’s drowned! it’s drowned!” cried quick Annabel. “The ship’s drowned, and Roland with it!” And Arthur sank back in his chair again, and covered his face with his hands.
CHAPTER LV. — NEWS FROM ROLAND.
You will like to look over Arthur’s shoulder, as he reads the letter just received from Roland Yorke.
“DEAR OLD CHUM,”
“By the time you get this letter, I shall be ploughing the waves of the briny deep, in the ship Africa. You will get the letter on Wednesday night. That is, you ought to get it; for I have desired Carrick to post it accordingly, and I’m sure he’ll do it if he does not forget. And old Galloway will get a letter at the same time, and Lady Augusta will get one. I shall have been off more than twenty-four hours, for we leave Gravesend on Tuesday at noon. Carrick has behaved like a trump. He has bought me all the things I asked him, and paid my passage-money, and given me fifty pounds in my pocket to land with; so I am safe to get on. The only thing he stood out about was the frying-pans. He couldn’t see of what use they’d be, he said. So we made a compromise, and I am taking out only four-and-twenty, instead of the forty dozen that I had thought of. I could not find Bagshaw’s list, and the frying-pans are about all I am taking, in the shape of utensils, except a large tool-chest, which they palmed off upon Carrick, for it was as dear as fire’s hot.”