"No, that was a mistake," explained Peter. "Alfred is engaged to quite a different person." "Well, in any case, it is quite possible that you may obtain your release when you meet her; and your suspense will soon be over now. Miss--er--Pincher, is it?--will probably be on board the ship before many minutes. I see the boats are putting out from the harbour already." "_What!_" cried Peter, with the terrible conviction darting through his mind that Sir William spoke the bare truth. Sophia had said something about meeting him at Gibraltar; but if she had done so during the real voyage, how could he have the meeting all over again, with this ghastly variation? If he could only remember whether she had come out, or not! It was singular, incomprehensible! But his memory was a blank on such a vital fact as this! "Would you like to have my field-glass for a moment?" said Sir William, considerately. Peter took it, and the next moment the binocular fell from his nerveless hands. He had seen only too clearly the familiar form of Sophia seated in the peaked stern of a small craft, which a Spanish boatman was "scissoring" through the waves towards the _Boomerang_. "Come, courage!" said the Judge kindly, as he picked up his glass and wiped the lenses. "Don't be nervous, my boy. You don't know what she may have to say to you yet, you know!" "No, I don't!" he groaned. "I--I think I ought to go down to the gangway and meet her," he added, tremulously,--not that he had any intention of doing so, but he wanted to be alone. Before the Judge could even express his approbation of Peter's course, Tourmalin was down on the saloon-deck seeking a quiet spot wherein to collect his thoughts. Before he could find the quiet spot, however, he almost ran into the arms of the matron from Melbourne, whom he had not seen since the episode of the music-room. "A word with you, Mr. Tourmalin!" she said. "I--I really can't stop now," stammered Peter. "I--I'm expecting friends!" "I, too," she said, "am expecting a relation, and it is for that reason that I wish to speak to you now. My brother, who has been staying at Gibraltar on account of his health, will be as determined as I am to trace and punish the infamous calumny upon the name and career of our honoured parent." "I daresay, madam," said Peter,--"I daresay. Very creditable to you both--but I really can't stop just now!" "You appear to forget, sir, that, unless you can satisfactorily establish your innocence, my brother will certainly treat you as the person primarily responsible for an atrocious slander!" "A slander--upon your father!... _Me?_" said the indignant Peter. "Why, I never _heard_ of the gentleman!"