But she could not rouse Peter to utterance, and losing what little temper she had, she rated him soundly, and sent him home saying with the prophet Jonah, “Do I not well to be angry?” for that also he placed to Malcolm’s account. Nor was his home any more a harbour for his riven boat, seeing his wife only longed for the return of him with whom his spirit chode: she regarded him as an exiled king, one day to reappear, and justify himself in the eyes of all, friends and enemies. CHAPTER XLVIII. TORTURE. Though unable to eat any breakfast, Malcolm persuaded himself that he felt nearly as well as usual when he went to receive his mistress’s orders. Florimel had had enough of horseback--for several days to come indeed--and would not ride. So he saddled Kelpie, and rode to Chelsea to look after his boat. To get rid of the mare, he rang the stable-bell at Mr Lenorme’s, and the gardener let him in. As he was putting her up, the man told him that the housekeeper had heard from his master. Malcolm went to the house to learn what he might, and found to his surprise that, if he had gone on the continent, he was there no longer, for the letter, which contained only directions concerning some of his pictures, was dated from Newcastle, and bore the Durham postmark of a week ago. Malcolm remembered that he had heard Lenorme speak of Durham cathedral, and in the hope that he might be spending some time there, begged the housekeeper to allow him to go to the study to write to her master. When he entered, however, he saw something that made him change his plan, and, having written, instead of sending the letter, as he had intended, inclosed to the postmaster at Durham, he left it upon an easel. It contained merely an earnest entreaty to be made and kept acquainted with his movements, that he might at once let him know if anything should occur that he ought to be informed concerning. He found all on board the yacht in ship-shape, only Davy was absent. Travers explained that he sent him on shore for a few hours every day. He was a sharp boy, he said, and the more he saw, the more useful he would be, and as he never gave him any money, there was no risk of his mistaking his hours. “When do you expect him?” asked Malcolm. “At four o’clock,” answered Travers. “It is four now,” said Malcolm. A shrill whistle came from the Chelsea shore. “And there’s Davy,” said Travers. Malcolm got into the dinghy and rowed ashore. “Davy,” he said, “I don’t want you to be all day on board, but I can’t have you be longer away than an hour at a time.” “Ay, ay, sir,” said Davy. “Now attend to me.” “Ay, ay, sir.” “Do you know Lady Lossie’s house?” “No, sir; but I ken hersel’.” “How is that?” “I ha’e seen her mair nor twa or three times, ridin’ wi’ yersel’, to yon hoose yon’er.” “Would you know her again?” “Ay wad I--fine that. What for no, sir?” “It’s a good way to see a lady across the Thames and know her again.”