If Lucy’s attention could have been directed towards anything but the terrible fear which absorbed all her soul, she might have noticed that at this time Miss Latimer became rather anxious and observant concerning Clementina. The old lady was aware that the servant was growing restless and uneasy. Her superstitions seemed all astir. She began to see omens on every side. The tense atmosphere of the household mind evidently affected her very much. Miss Latimer could only hope that it would not affect her so much as to cause her to “give notice.” For in many ways the old lady’s experience told her that Clementina was a treasure not to be found every day, since she was scrupulously honest, clean and industrious, and the very last person likely to have questionable “followers.” So the dreary days went on in the shadow of the storm-cloud, now so lowering that it became too much to hope that it would pass over harmlessly. The monotony was broken at last by a telegram which came in late one evening. But it did not come to end Lucy’s agony of suspense, either by joy or sorrow. It was simply a telegram from Mrs. Grant of Peterhead, announcing that by the time it reached Lucy she would be on her way to London, as she had despatched the message just as her train was starting. She might be expected by the first train reaching London in the morning. “What does this mean?” asked Lucy with white lips. Miss Latimer and Tom strove to soothe her by assuring her that naturally Mrs. Grant was as anxious as herself. Perhaps she wanted to seek further information about the _Slains Castle_, or possibly to consult with Lucy as to whether there were joint steps that they might take in search of news. Lucy was not readily pacified. Her first fear had been that Mrs. Grant had had private word of the loss of the ship and her passenger and crew, and that she kindly wished to communicate this news to Lucy personally. It was comparatively easy to persuade her that this was most unlikely. Her next misgiving was more difficult to dislodge. It was that Mrs. Grant had at last heard from her husband with some bad news of Charlie—a private matter with which, of course, owners and underwriters could have nothing to do. This foreboding could only be allayed by Mrs. Grant herself.