'Sir Herbert! Who would have thought of seeing you so late! Is anything wrong? Is Katie ill?'
'No; your daughter is quite well. I left her just now dressed up like some medieval heroine, and lamenting her woes in song.'
'True; I recollect this is the night of Katie's charade party.'
They have both gone into the library now; Mr Grey has flung the stump of his cigar aside, and the Admiral speedily explains the cause of his late visit.
'I acted as your note directed, Sir Herbert, and at once sent off the Leoni to assist the Daring.'
'The Leoni! Were you mad, Grey?'
'I confess your order amazed me. I did all I could to consult with you about it, but you were gone to Hillview. Here is the order; you will see the Leoni's name written plainly.'
The Admiral takes the paper in his hand, holds it near his gaze, scrutinises it afar off, glances at it through his eye-glass; but the fact is indisputable—there is the word Leoni, apparently in his own writing.
'This is a vile forgery, Grey! I never wrote that, never dreamt of giving such a mad order. Heaven alone knows what results, what complications may arise from it! I shudder to think of the Daring still aground on the Short Reefs, or perhaps altogether broken up long ere this.'
'The Leoni couldn't help her much, I fear.'