“This is Mr. Basset,” Audley explained. Mary stared at the stranger. The name conveyed nothing to her.
“I came to meet you,” he said, speaking with difficulty, and now and again casting a wild eye abroad as the deck heaved under him. “But I expected to find you at the hotel, and I waited there until I nearly missed the boat. Even then I felt that I ought to learn if you were on board, and I came up to see.”
“I am very much obliged to you,” Mary answered politely, “but I am quite comfortable, thank you. It is close below, and Lord Audley found this seat for me. And I have a cabin.”
“Oh yes!” he answered. “I think I will go down then if you—if you are sure you want nothing.”
“Nothing, thank you,” Mary answered with decision.
“I think I—I’ll go, then. Good-night!”
With that he went, making desperate tacks in the direction of the companion. Unfortunately what he gained in speed he lost in dignity, and before he reached the hatch Lord Audley gave way to laughter.
“Oh, don’t!” Mary cried. “He will hear you. And it was kind of him to look for me when he was not well.”
But Audley only laughed the more. “You don’t catch the full flavor of it,” he said. “He’s come three hundred miles to meet you, and he’s too ill to do anything now he’s here!”
“Three hundred miles to meet me!” she cried in astonishment.