"I regret," added Mr. Quinion, "you should have felt it needful to come down here on such an errand, as it was scarcely likely we should have taken so important a step without first giving it very careful consideration." "I trust you will forgive me if you think I have acted indiscreetly," rejoined Arnold. "Oh, say no more about it," was Mr. Quinion’s reply. "When do you return to town?" "By the next train, sir; at three-ten p.m." "In that case you have no time to lose, so I will not detain you any longer. Good day." And in less than half an hour Arnold was speeding back to London, with no very comfortable feelings. He had failed to produce the impression expected, or to change the situation of affairs; and his future course did not yet clearly shape itself to his mind. Of course, the fact of his visit to Broadstone was known in London, but every attempt to extract from him the object of his journey failed. To all and sundry of his inquirers the uniform answer was—"Only a little private business." *CHAPTER III.* *THE QUAY AT ANTWERP.* "Blow, wind; swell, billow; and swim bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard." _Julius Cæsar_, Act V. sc. i. A midsummer sun was already shining upon the lazily flowing waters of the Scheldt, as the Cathedral clock rang out the hour of six; and the sweet-toned carillons, for which its tower is almost world renowned, had not yet ceased their chimes as the good ship _Kestrel_, which lay moored at the quay-side, began to sound her most unmusical whistle, preparatory to moving into midstream, outward bound for the English coast. The quaint old market-place,—close to the river, and lying beneath the shadow of the Cathedral walls,—surrounded with lofty houses of a style peculiar to Flemish architecture, was at this hour a scene of busy life. From early dawn the peasants and small farmers from the neighbouring villages continued to flow in, bringing such marketable commodities as were likely to find a ready sale. Butter and cheese, with pails of cream and masses of cheap vegetables, rapidly changed hands, and were carried home in baskets, or in small carts to which dogs were harnessed, and which latter seemed in no way to dislike the task they were put to, judging from the apparent cheerful and eager way in which they went at the work. On the quay-side nearly as much life and activity prevailed as in the market-place. Porters were hurrying to and fro across the gangways; final additions were being hastily made to the cargo; the passengers were crowding in; and, as the _Kestrel’s_ warning bell rang, those who had come to see the last of departing friends or relatives were hurried ashore.