His face lengthened considerably as he listened to the long account of disappointment and failure they had to give him. “Well, I’m hanged if ever I knew anything like it,” he said at last, in a tone of great vexation. “I thought everything was plain sailing, and never dreamt that Stavanger would alter his mind about coming on to England. You can’t touch him in Spain, and for anything we know he may stick there. I wonder where Cochrane is. He must have taken the alarm, too.” “We hope to be able to help the case considerably by means of the ring you wrote to us about,” observed Mr. Cory. “Well, the imp of mischief seems to be at work,” said the captain, emphasising his vexation by an oath. “Even the ring will be no use as evidence now. At Malta we coaled, coming home. There I met an old chum, who, like myself, was on his first voyage as master. I’m afraid we both jubilated till we were half seas over. I was cutting a dash with the diamond ring at the time. My friend offered to go on board my ship with me. As we were being rowed to the ship he noticed my ring, and made some remark about it. I pulled it off to show it to him. Whether it was his fault or mine I hardly know, but between us we let the ring drop into the water, with the result that it is lost beyond recovery.” CHAPTER XIV. AN ACCOMMODATING POSTMAN. “Annie, my child, don’t you think you had better give up this vain chase? You are looking ill and worried. The case makes no real progress, in spite of all our exertions, and you are wearing your life away for nothing.” “For nothing, auntie? Is Harley’s rescue nothing? I’m ashamed to hear you speak like that. It’s a good thing Mrs. Riddell has not come downstairs yet. She would be astonished to find you turning traitor.” “I have heard some people say, my dear, that you have a real nasty temper when you like, and I am bound to admit that they are not far wrong, for your last sentence was thoroughly ill-natured. As you know, however, I am quite ready to make allowances, and I repeat that you are not reaping an equivalent success for all your exertions.” “And what would you have me do? Leave Harley to his fate, without another effort to save him?” “By no means. I am as anxious as ever that he should be helped. But I think you will work more efficiently if you take things quietly for a while, and resume operations after your inactivity has lulled all suspicion.” “You mean well, auntie; but I should die if I didn’t work in some way or other for Harley’s benefit. So far all my efforts have failed, but I don’t mean to give up hope, for Fate cannot always set her signals dead against us.”