Quickly Terence's mother made her simple preparations. After dressing for the journey she sat down and wrote a note to her sister, explaining the reason for her hasty departure, and stating that she would write the same evening and give full details. Upon second thoughts she did not enclose the telegram, but placed it in her handbag. Then, closing the envelope and sealing it with wax, she gave it to the maid to hand to her mistress on her return.
It was close on four in the afternoon when the train steamed into Harwich station. Making her way through crowds of bluejackets who formed the bulk of the passengers, Mrs. Aubyn called a cab and bade the man drive her to Shotley as quickly as possible.
The cabby looked curiously at her.
"Shotley?" he repeated. "'Tis a long way. It'll cost you a quid, mum—a sovereign. Couldn't do it for less."
"A sovereign!" repeated Mrs. Aubyn aghast.
"Not a penny less, mum," declared the man, stolidly. The old lady's hand tightened on her purse. Her means were strictly limited. A sovereign was to her a large sum. Yet, for her boy's sake——
"Excuse me, madam," exclaimed a deep, pleasant voice.
Mrs. Aubyn turned. The cabby gave vent to an exclamation that, although inaudible, clearly expressed his views upon "fussy toffs who interfered with an honest chap's living."
"Do I understand that you want to go to Shotley?" continued the stranger, a tall, bearded gentleman in the uniform of a naval captain.
"Yes, to the hospital. My son, Sub-Lieutenant Aubyn, is lying there seriously wounded."