Her eyes grew wide with terror, and she swayed as if about to fall, but her father put out a sunburnt hand for her support.
"We must go back!" he said, mastering himself at sight of her suffering. "We have missed him here, he's gone home, that is all—it means nothing."
They drove in silence through the streets. Pallid, fearful, and speechless in her suffering, Elizabeth leaned back in her seat. The hope that had sustained her was lost in the realization of defeat. There was nothing beyond; this was failure, complete and final; the very end of effort! Suddenly her father's big hand closed about the small one which rested in her lap.
"You must not give up; I tell you it will be all right!" he insisted.
"He is avoiding us!" she cried chokingly. "Oh, what can we do when he will not even see us!"
"Yes, he will. We have been unfortunate, that is all."
"Wretchedly unfortunate!" she moaned.
They had reached their destination, and this time slowly and uncertainly they ascended the steps. With his hand upon the bell, the general hesitated for an instant; so much was at stake! Then a bell sounded in some distant part of the house, and after a brief interval the door was opened to them.
"I am sorry, sir, but the governor has not returned."
The general thrust a bill into the man's hand, saying: