Zanzibar? Yes, the Messageries Maritimes steamer _Djemnah_, was reported as arriving at Marseilles yesterday morning. Allan was in England, perhaps. If all went well with him, he would come by the first ship after the mail that brought his letter. The _Rapide_ would bring him from Marseilles in time for the morning mail from Paris. He was in England--he whom Geoffrey had cruelly, treacherously deserted, helpless, and alone. "All is fair in love," Geoffrey told himself; "but I wonder what Suzette will think of her future husband when she knows all? Her future husband! If I were but her actual husband, I could defy Fate. Who knows? something may have happened to hinder his return--a fit of fever, a difficulty on the road. Three more weeks, and he may come back safe and sound; it won't matter to me; I have no murderous thoughts about him. He may tell her the worst he can about me. Once my wife, I can hold and keep her in spite of the world. I will teach her that the man who sins for love's sake must be forgiven for the sake of his love." He was consumed with a fever of anxiety which would not let him rest within four walls. He walked to Beechhurst, and unearthed a caretaker, who came strolling from the distant stables, where he had been enlivening his idleness by gossip with the grooms. The blinds and shutters were all closed. Nothing had been heard from Mr. Carew. "If he were in England you would have heard from him, I suppose?" said Geoffrey. "Yes, sir; he would have wired, no doubt. My wife is housekeeper, and she would have had notice to get the house ready." "Even if Mr. Carew had gone to Suffolk, in the first instance?" "I should think so, sir. He would know we should want time to prepare for him." There was relief in this. Perhaps the _Djemnah_ had carried no such passenger as the man whose return Geoffrey Wornock dreaded. He went back to the Manor in the gloom of a November evening. The darkness and loneliness of the road suited his humour. He wanted to be alone, to think out the situation, to walk down the devil within him. Matcham Church clock was chiming the third quarter after five when he opened the gate and went into Discombe Wood; but when the Discombe dressing-bell rang at half-past seven--an old-fashioned bell in a cupola, which gave needless information to every cottager within half a mile of the Manor House--Geoffrey had not come in. His valet waited about for him till nearly dinner-time, and then went down to the drawing-room to ask Mrs. Wornock if his master was to dine at home. "He is not in his dressing-room, ma'am. Will you wait dinner for him?" "Yes, yes, of course I shall wait. Tell them to keep the dinner back."