‘The messages have been communicated to the Dowager, but she persists in regarding them with incredulity. She is persuaded that Lord —— fell a victim to foul play at Genoa, or Geneva, and that all these communications have been forged in his name. Her delusions constitute the only serious feature of the case. These are the facts, if Henry will condescend to accept them as such for the benefit of his readers; and I may further inform him that —— Court has been shut up.’
CHAPTER XXV.
ANOTHER PARTING.
I dropped the paper, and lay staring at the wall, with aching eyeballs, till long past dawn. What my thoughts were, need not be told. They were hardly thoughts; they were only pangs of remorse.
Then, suddenly, I rose, dressed in all haste, saved my paper from the leafy litter of the night, and went out to find the girl.
I met her, almost on the threshold, fresh from her morning dip in the sea; and, without greeting, put the paper in her hand—‘Victoria, what must I do?’
I watched her face as she read, and saw all its glow of youth and health die suddenly to an ashen cast. There was something so awful in the change that, without another word, I walked away.
When I returned to the house, the Ancient and the Skipper were alone, with the remains of their breakfast before them. Victoria, to all appearance, had served the meal as conscientiously as though nothing had happened. The old man pressed me to eat, and I broke bread.
‘No one seems to have any appetite this morning but you and me, Captain,’ he said. ‘I wonder what’s the matter with my girl?’
There was dead silence. I would not answer, and the Captain could not. He seemed to have an instinctive aversion to situations of that sort, and he began to resume the conversation which my entrance had interrupted.
‘Yes, sir, off to-morrow morning; repairs or no repairs. Time’s up. I’ve betted a hat on this voyage. It’s a go-as-you-please match against time, for the circumnavigation of the globe. Don’t try to keep me; I shall lose my hat!’