"Oh, hang that, man. I told you in my letter."
"What letter?"
"The one I wrote and pushed into your letter-box after coming twice to
tell you."
"Letter?"
"Why, of course. You had it or you couldn't have come here."
Stratton's hand went to his breast, and the next minute he drew out a
soiled letter doubled up into three from the pressure of his pocketbook.
"You wrote this letter to me to tell me you were coming here?" said
Stratton in slow, strange accents.
"Of course I did, and I tell you that you have done a mean, cruel thing
in following me. It can do no good; Sir Mark will be furious, and it is
cruel to Myra."
"Myra--Myra here!" gasped Stratton as he reeled against the wall.
"Don't make a scene, man," said Guest in a low whisper. "Of course; I
told you she was coming, and how the old man insisted upon my coming
too. Why, you haven't opened the letter!"
"No," said Stratton in a hoarse whisper.
"Then how came you here?"
"I--Heaven only knows!" said Stratton. "It is beyond me."
Guest looked at him curiously, as if he doubted his word.
"We only came to-day. Had to stop at place after place; Myra is so weak
and ill."
Stratton groaned.
"Yes," said Guest; "that's better. Now look here. You and I will start
off at daybreak for home. It's hard on me, but it must be done."
"Yes. I saw you two--on the sands to-night. I was not sure. But tell
me, where are they staying?"
"At a little chateau-like place on the cliff; they got it through a
woman they knew at Saint Malo a couple or three years ago. She was
servant there. She is nurse now to an invalid gentleman staying at a
cottage just below."
Stratton stood gazing at his friend as if he had been turned to stone.
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
AND ALL IN VAIN.
Guest stood looking at his friend for a few moments, half astonished,
half annoyed.
"Look here," he said at last, taking his arm and drawing it through his
own, "we can't talk freely in this place. Come out and have a cigar on
the sands."
Stratton made no reply, but walked out with him like a man who had been
stunned, Guest taking the direction opposite to that in which the
admiral's temporary home lay. Then, stopping short by the ebbing sea,
he drew out his cigar case and offered it; but it was waved aside.
"Quite right," said Guest shortly; "we can't smoke now. Look here, old
fellow, I shouldn't be your friend if I did not speak out when you were
in the wrong. You must have known we were coming here, and you must see
now that you have done, as I said, a cruel thing in coming; so give me
your word as a man of honour that you will be ready to start with me in
the morning first thing."
"I tell you I did not know they were coming here," said Stratton in a
deep, solemn tone; "I tell you I did not follow you, and I tell you that
I cannot leave here with you in the morning."
"Then how in the world did you come here?"
"I don't know. I suppose it was fate."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account