Midnight was long since past, and he went below; the weary steward was still yawning in his pantry, when Bevil thought another brandy and seltzer would do him no harm. 'How long may we be here?' he asked, impatiently. 'Till the fog lifts, sir, or day breaks, certainly.' 'Then we may not get to Rotterdam till midday?' 'Rotterdam, did you say, sir?' asked the steward, with a stare of surprise. 'Yes.' 'Why, sir, this is the Antwerp boat, and these lights on shore are Flushing--we're in the Scheldt.' Goring was exasperated on hearing this--a cause of delay and trouble quite unexpected. 'I was told distinctly that this was the Rotterdam boat.' 'So it is, sir, in a way--it is _the_ Rotterdam, bound for Antwerp. Where _was_ you going to?' Goring explained, on which the steward mixed himself a glass of grog, laughed, and said it was a jolly mistake. Goring, however, failed to see the jollity of it, and began to consult a railway guide to trace out his route from Antwerp the moment he landed there, by Breda, to the city on the Maese. While thus employed, he asked the steward if he had heard of a collision some time ago near the mouth of that river, in which an English yacht had suffered. 'Yes, sir,' replied the steward, 'but it wasn't quite off the mouth of the Maese.' 'Where, then?' 'More to the south'ard--somewhere off the coast of Walchern.' 'It was Lord Cadbury's yacht.' 'Yes, sir, so I heard.' 'What happened?' asked Goring, making an effort to control himself and conceal his agitation, which was totally unperceived by the steward, who was collecting from the table all the glasses and decanters left by the passengers, who were now rolled up in rugs, and stowed away in their berths or on lockers. 'One of the craft was sunk.' 'Which?' 'Don't know, sir, precisely.' 'Were any drowned?' 'Some o' course, sir--a young woman, for one.' 'A young lady?' gasped Bevil. 'Can't say, sir--coming, sir!' he added, in reply to a voice that hailed from near the rudder-case; 'whisky grogs for two--flash o' lightning and gin cock-tail for the two American gents,' he added to his assistant; while Goring betook himself to the little cuddy on deck, and sat there with a very benumbed and stunned feeling about him; while once more the vibration of the vessel and the everlasting 'Hard-a-port--Starboard--steady' announced that the steamer was again under way; that the fog had lifted; and that she was gliding up the waters of the Scheldt, on each side of which not a vestige of the flat shore was visible as yet. All inclination to sleep had departed from Bevil Goring; yet he was very weary, and a year seemed to have elapsed since he threw off his uniform and donned mufti at Aldershot, and had seen the green and red lights of Harwich Pier fade into the sea.