“They won’t be here for a minute,” said Philippa hastily. “Usk, tell me quickly--I’m most frightfully anxious--is it because you are still in love with Félicia that you can’t care properly for Helene?” Usk laughed. “You’ve quite determined that I’m a brute to Helene. No, Phil, I can’t say that I feel the very slightest envy of King Michael. If Félicia was cruel, she was kind too. As I was not to love her, she left me nothing to do but hate her. No, I don’t mean that exactly. You know, don’t you?” “And now she has probably had her wish, and been a queen, for two days. It doesn’t seem at all fair or moral. Even Becky Sharp never quite succeeded in getting what she wanted. But she’s out of your way, and I’m glad of it. Poor little Helene must ‘dree her ain weird,’ I suppose, as you won’t listen to what I say about her.” “A telegram!” cried Helene, running up the steps at the end of the balcony. “We met the servant coming from Beyrout with the letters, and he had this for you, Usk. What can it be?” “What can it be?” echoed Usk, as he tore open the envelope. “I say!” his tone changed. “Just listen: ‘Your uncle has disappeared. Meet me immediately at Novigrad, _viâ_ Trieste.--Ernestine.’ What does it mean?” “Uncle Cyril disappeared!” gasped Philippa. “They’ve murdered him at last!” cried Mansfield. “Don’t stand staring, Usk; they shall pay for it! We’ll track them to the world’s end.” “It doesn’t say he’s dead,” suggested Helene, very pale. “Perhaps it’s brigands, and they are holding him to ransom.” “Well, at any rate, we must find him,” said Mansfield. “If we go down to Beyrout to-night, we can catch the steamer to-morrow morning, Usk.” “No, no,” said Usk, recovering himself. “You must stay here. We can’t leave the girls alone. Besides, there’s your work.” “Hang the work!” cried Mansfield. “The girls will look after one another.” “No,” said Helene, very quietly, but with white determination, “I am going with Usk.” “Nonsense, Lenchen! I can’t take you. You’ll stay with Phil and the baby.” “I am going with you,” repeated Helene. “Or if you refuse to let me come with you, I shall follow you by the next steamer, and Phil will help me, because she knows I am right in going.” “She is, indeed, Usk,” said Philippa. “With you to take care of her, what reason is there why she shouldn’t go?” “Why, dozens! It’s simply preposterous. I shall be rushing about into all sorts of places, where I couldn’t take a lady. You don’t know how rough things are in Illyria.” “I can live upon black bread and goats’ milk,” said Helene calmly, “and you couldn’t.” “But I can’t trail about a whole procession of servants. Everything may depend upon following up a clue quickly.”