‘O, he’s living! My husband is alive,’ she cried, sinking down in nearly a fainting condition.
‘No, my lady. Sir Blount is dead enough, I am sorry to say.’
‘Dead, did you say?’
‘Certainly, Lady Constantine; there is no doubt of it.’
She sat up, and her intense relief almost made itself perceptible like a fresh atmosphere in the room. ‘Yes. Then what did you come for?’ she asked calmly.
‘That Sir Blount has died is unquestionable,’ replied the lawyer’s clerk gently. ‘But there has been some mistake about the date of his death.’
‘He died of malarious fever on the banks of the Zouga, October 24, 18--.’
‘No; he only lay ill there a long time it seems. It was a companion who died at that date. But I’ll read the account to your ladyship, with your permission:—
‘“The decease of this somewhat eccentric wanderer did not occur at the time hitherto supposed, but only in last December. The following is the account of the Englishman alluded to, given as nearly as possible in his own words: During the illness of Sir Blount and his friend by the Zouga, three of the servants went away, taking with them a portion of his clothing and effects; and it must be they who spread the report of his death at this time. After his companion’s death he mended, and when he was strong enough he and I travelled on to a healthier district. I urged him not to delay his return to England; but he was much against going back there again, and became so rough in his manner towards me that we parted company at the first opportunity I could find. I joined a party of white traders returning to the West Coast. I stayed here among the Portuguese for many months. I then found that an English travelling party were going to explore a district adjoining that which I had formerly traversed with Sir Blount. They said they would be glad of my services, and I joined them. When we had crossed the territory to the South of Ulunda, and drew near to Marzambo, I heard tidings of a man living there whom I suspected to be Sir Blount, although he was not known by that name. Being so near I was induced to seek him out, and found that he was indeed the same. He had dropped his old name altogether, and had married a native princess—”’
‘Married a native princess!’ said Lady Constantine.