"Oh! I am sorry," she said to herself, when she got to her own room. "How terribly disappointed he will feel. It will seem as though everything is against him, and he had staked his all on the enterprise."
Once or twice she was strongly tempted to sit down and write him a friendly letter of sympathy. But she could not summon up quite sufficient courage. If she had cared less for him she would have been less sensitive. Beryl had just told her that she had been carried away by a foolish and romantic attachment, or words to that effect, and it would never do to give colour and substance to the insinuation. She must keep her self-respect whatever happened.
For several days Rufus was more frequently in her thoughts than was good for her peace of mind. She pictured his disappointment, his helplessness, his despair. She saw him in imagination wandering out on the cliffs alone, with knitted brows and troubled face. She wondered what he would do. She knew he had staked his all – though how much that "all" meant she never guessed – would it be possible for him to rise above this last calamity that had overtaken him, or would he go down in the general crash and ruin, and never be heard of again?
He had ability, she knew, and energy and determination; but so had many another man who had absolutely failed. No man could do the impossible. Bricks could not be made without clay. Circumstances were sometimes stronger than the strongest.
Rufus Sterne was not only penniless, but in debt. The money he had borrowed had gone with his own, and how was it possible in a sleepy little place like St. Gaved to retrieve his position? She wished she could help him. The beginning of his misfortunes seemed to be associated with her. His broken leg was entirely due to her adventurousness, while the loss of his reputation was the outcome of her friendliness to him. Try as she would she could never wholly dissociate herself from him. She was irretrievably mixed up with his success or failure.
She did her best to appear cheerful and unconcerned before the Tregonys. Beryl informed her father that Madeline had seen the account in the paper of Sterne's failure, and had manifested not the slightest interest in the matter.
"Did she say nothing at all?" Sir Charles questioned.
"Scarcely a word."
"And did you say nothing?"
"I did suggest that I thought she would feel sorry now she had ever spoken to him."
"And what did she reply?"
"Oh, she just said, 'There are many things we feel sorry for when it is too late,' and walked out of the room."
"She never saw him after the police court affair, I think."
"I am sure she never did, father."
"So that this will pretty well complete the disillusionment."
"If she ever had any illusions."
"I am afraid she had, Beryl, I'm afraid she had. That was a most unfortunate adventure on the cliffs – most unfortunate," and Sir Charles turned again to the paper he had been reading.
Had the Tregonys been close observers they might have detected a forced and an unnatural note in Madeline's gaiety. She was mirthful at times when there appeared to be no sufficient reason for her mirth, and cheerful when the conditions were most depressing.
When alone in her own room she generally paid the penalty. Frequently her spirits sank to zero. The desire to help Rufus Sterne was natural enough; but her helplessness drove her almost to despair. She could not even help herself. In a sense she was as much in the toils of circumstance as he was. She not only wondered what would become of him, but what would become of herself.
The weeks were slipping away rapidly, and the Tregonys were beginning to talk about their return to England. The days were often almost insufferably warm, and the birds of passage that crowded the hotels were beginning to take flight to more Northern latitudes. Day after day she had hoped she might discover some way of effecting her deliverance, but no way revealed itself. She was without a friend outside the Tregony family, and yet to return with them to Trewinion Hall would be to put herself in a position as intolerable as it would be compromising.
"What helpless things girls are," she would sometimes say to herself. "If I were only a man I could snap my fingers at everybody. But because I'm a girl I can just do nothing."
She felt so miserable one morning that she refused everyone's company, and went out for a walk alone.
Sir Charles was very cross when he knew, and he was still more cross when lunch time came and she did not return. As the afternoon wore away and she did not put in an appearance, his anger gave place to anxiety, and ultimately to very serious alarm.
CHAPTER XXXI
OLD FRIENDS
"Well, I never! If this ain't the greatest surprise of the trip!"
Madeline looked up with a start. She recognised the American accent, before she had any idea she was being spoken to.
"Well, now, who would have thought it? I regard this as a real streak of luck."
"What, Kitty Harvey?" Madeline exclaimed, in a tone of eager surprise. "Oh, I am so glad!" And a moment later the two girls were embracing each other with a warmth and an effusiveness that would have done justice to an Oriental greeting.
"I spied you from the other side of the way," Kitty Harvey said at length, tears of genuine pleasure shining in her eyes, "and I said to mamma, 'If that ain't Madeline Grover, then I'm the blindest coon that ever walked in shoe leather.'"
"Is your mother here?" Madeline queried, eagerly.
"We're all here, my dear, a regular family party, with sundry relations to keep things lively. But here comes the little mother, two hundred pounds of her, and as cheerful as ever."
"But when did you come?"
"Cast anchor this morning, my dear. That's our yacht out yonder, flying the stars and stripes."
"What, that? I thought she was a transatlantic liner."
"Well, I guess she is, or something nearly related to it. But you should talk to Dick; he knows her from stem to stern, and from the keel to the captain's bridge."
"Then you are here on a yachting cruise?"
"That's what we are here on just. In fact we've been two-thirds round this globe already."
"And have you enjoyed it?"
"Off and on. There are drawbacks to everything, but in the main it's been just great."
Then Mrs. Harvey waddled up, panting, breathless, eager and happy. She almost smothered Madeline with kisses and talked incessantly between whiles.
"Kitty said it was you, and I said it wasn't. But you have improved. You see my sight is not quite as good as it used to be."
"Another of mother's compliments!" Kitty laughed.
"It's nothing of the sort," Mrs. Harvey protested. "I meant what I said, but I really must get my glasses strengthened."
"You must, mother. You really won't be able to recognise father at the rate you are going on."
"And you are still Madeline Grover? I don't want to be inquisitive my dear, but we understood, you know, you were coming across to marry a title; was it a duke or a knight? I really get mixed up as to the order they stand in."
"I'm not going to marry either," Madeline said, impulsively. "I'm going to remain as I am."
"No-o?" from both mother and daughter.
"It's the honest truth."
"Well, with all your money you are independent of a title, my dear," Mrs. Harvey said, absently.
"But I haven't any money," Madeline said, "except what my trustee allows me. But really, do you know for certain if I shall be well off when I come of age?"
"Don't you know yourself?"
"I really know nothing. Father never talked to me about money matters, and Sir Charles copies his example in that respect."
"Then you had better come and talk to my husband. If there's anything about money he doesn't know, I should like to discover it."
"I should like to see Mr. Harvey very much."
"Then come back and have lunch with us on the Skylark. There's plenty of room, and you'll be as welcome as the President of the United States."
"Oh, it would be just delightful," Madeline said, eagerly, "there's nothing I should enjoy so much."
Madeline was almost bewildered at the size and magnificence of the Skylark. Mr. Harvey, having struck a copper lode a few years previously, found himself with more money than he knew profitably how to spend, and with more time on his hands than he knew wisely how to use. He built for himself a marble mansion in New York, and purchased one of the largest steam yachts that ever ploughed the seas, and was now doing his best to earn a night's repose by sight-seeing.
Peter J. Harvey welcomed Madeline on board the Skylark with many expressions of delight. He was a typical American, tall, square-shouldered, and not over-burdened with flesh. He had straight hair, which he wore rather long, a clean-shaven face, a wide mouth, a strong, square chin, and a most refreshing American accent.
He was not exactly a vain man. At any rate, he did his best to keep his vanity under proper control, and if he boasted occasionally he believed he had something to boast of. He was still in the prime of life, being the right side of fifty by two or three years. Kitty was the eldest of six – three boys and three girls, the youngest, Bryant, having celebrated his seventh birthday two days before. Besides the family, there were numerous cousins and uncles and aunts, with others whose relationship to the Harveys was difficult to trace.
The lunch was set out in the grand saloon, and was served in the best style. The stewards wore bottle-green coats trimmed with gold braid.
Madeline, having got among old friends, talked with a freedom and an abandon that she had not known since she left her native land. The grace of reticence was a virtue the Harveys had never cultivated. It was their boast that they had nothing to hide. Hence they discussed their domestic and business affairs with a freedom that would have staggered an Englishman of the old school.
Confidence begets confidence; and so in the seclusion of the yacht's library, with only Mr. and Mrs. Harvey and Kitty present, Madeline explained as far as she dared the peculiarities of her present situation.
Peter J. rose to the situation at once.
"My dear child," he said, "I guess there ain't no difficulty at all. I don't see none. It's just as easy as falling off a stool. There ain't no occasion for you to go back to their moth-eaten ancestral abode for five minutes. You just come along with us – "
"You mean – "
"I mean what I say," continued Peter J. "There's room for you in this small frigate and to spare, and there's a welcome as long as from here to the United States and back again."
"It would be just delightful," Madeline said, with dilating eyes. "But – "
"Then let it be delightful," Mr. Harvey interrupted. "I guess we'd be as delighted as you would be. What say you, Kitty?"
"It would be just too fine for words," Kitty replied.
"It would be like a Providence," Mrs. Harvey chimed in, "so we'll consider it settled."
"But Sir Charles might object," Madeline said, with a half-frightened look in her eyes.
"You leave his lordship to me, my dear," Peter J. interposed. "I guess I know my way about, and if he cuts up nasty, I'll treat him to a chapter out of the gospel of Peter J. Harvey."
"But what excuse should I make?"
"You needn't make any excuse at all. I'll go across and see the General myself and explain things."
"But what would you say?"
"That we had fallen across you accidentally; that we were old friends; that I knew your father; that you and Kitty were chums at school; that we are cruising round this here little arm of the ocean for a week or two longer; and that we are taking you along with us just to give you a taste of sea-faring life."
"But he might not believe you."
"Then I would bring him across here and let him see for himself and hear your own wishes out of your own mouth."
"But he would not consent for me to be out of his sight for more than a day or two at the outside."
"Then to avoid trouble and hard words we will mention a day or two – wind and weather permitting."
"Oh! Mr. Harvey, if you could get me clean away from them without any unpleasantness, I should be more thankful than words can tell."
"I'll do it, my dear. And when Peter J. Harvey says he'll do a thing, why, that thing is done. Now give me the location of this Lord Tregony."
"Oh! he isn't a lord," Madeline laughed, "he's only a baronet."
"Well, it's all the same to me. He wouldn't alarm me if he were your Attorney-General."
"Don't you think I had better go back with you. I'm afraid they'll be getting alarmed at my long absence."
"I thought you tumbled across a page-boy belonging to the hotel and sent word by him that you would not be back till evening."
"I did send word that I would not be in to lunch. But those boys are so stupid that it's ten to one if he conveyed my message."
"Don't you alarm yourself on that point," Peter J. said, cheerfully. "But if you think you can explain things better yourself, why we'll go along together. But mind you, we return together, even at the risk of an earthquake."
"Let Kitty come as well," Madeline said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"All right, my dear. The more the merrier. I'll take the skipper and the crew if you think it might impress his lordship and make the way easier."
"No, I think the three of us will be sufficient," Madeline said, with a laugh. "But no hint must be given that I'm to be absent more than two or three days. Sir Charles had made all arrangements to leave for Paris on Monday."
"You leave that to P. J. H., my dear. If I'm not quite a full-blown diplomat it's only for want of opportunity. Now let us be off. If Lord Charles What's-his-other-name don't yield without a murmur, I shall be surprised."
Half-an-hour later they were walking up the steps of the hotel. Sir Charles was in the lounge, with a cigar in his mouth and his eyes towards the door. He was feeling much more anxious than he cared to admit. Gervase had gone by an early train to Monte Carlo and had not returned. Lady Tregony and Beryl were in their bedrooms.
Sir Charles sprang to his feet and heaved a big sigh of relief when the swing door was pushed open, and Madeline entered, radiant and smiling, followed by Kitty Harvey and her father.
"My dear Madeline," he said, reproachfully, "you have given us a fright. We have been looking for you everywhere."
"Oh! I am sorry," she answered. "But I told one of the page-boys I met outside to tell you I was going to lunch with some friends."
"No such message was brought to me," he answered, severely. "It would have been better if you had left word at the office."
"I am sorry if I have caused you any anxiety," she answered, quietly. "But I met some American friends on the promenade, and have been with them on their yacht to lunch."
At the word yacht Sir Charles pricked up his ears, and a somewhat mollified expression stole over his face.
"Allow me to introduce my friend Miss Kitty Harvey," Madeline said, in her most engaging manner, "and this is her father, Mr. P. J. Harvey, of New York City, and a friend of my father's."
Sir Charles bowed very pompously, and muttered something under his breath about being delighted to meet them.
Peter J. had said nothing up to this point, but stood in the background – as a modest man should – chewing the end of a cigar.
"I can assure you, Colonel, the pleasure is reciprocated," he said, in his slowest manner, and with a twinkle in the corner of his eye. "The truth is my daughter and I have come along as a sort of deputation."
"Indeed! Will you not be seated?"
"Well, thank you. As it's as cheap to sit as to stand, and talking comes easier as a rule when you are sitting down, I guess I'll fall in with the suggestion."
Sir Charles waited for Mr. Harvey to proceed. Madeline and Kitty sat on a lounge side by side, the former feeling very uncomfortable. She saw in a moment that Sir Charles did not like the American's free and easy ways, and Mr. Harvey was dimly conscious of the same truth.
"Not to waste words over the business," Peter J. went on, "we want to take Miss Grover just for a little run on our steamer, and we came across to ask your consent. These formalities are considered proper I believe, and we fall in with them. Though as a citizen of the United States I presume the lady can just do as she likes."
"Well, no!" Sir Charles replied, pompously. "Miss Grover is my ward till she comes of age. At any rate, it amounts to that – "
"Of course I am, Sir Charles," Madeline interposed. "But we are not going to talk law or gospel, are we? Mr. Harvey has asked me to go for a little run on his yacht, and I really want to go ever so much!"
"But we leave here for Paris on Monday, Madeline. I fear there is no time."
Peter J. puckered his face into a knowing smile. "According to my calculations," he said, "Monday is five days off. We could almost circumnavigate this little arm of the ocean in that time. But we are talking of a run of a couple of days more or less."
"It seems hardly worth the trouble, does it, Madeline?" Sir Charles questioned, in a bored tone.
"Oh! quite worth it, Sir Charles. Think how lovely the sea is, and how beautifully calm, and then you know Mr. Harvey's yacht is as big as an ocean steamer. In a couple of days we could go to Naples and back, and wouldn't it be lovely to see Naples!"
"Naples is an interesting place, no doubt. But the weather is getting warm – hot, I may say."
"But we need not land unless we like," Mr. Harvey interposed.
"Of course – " Sir Charles began, hesitatingly.
"Then that is settled, my dears," Peter J. interrupted. "I knew his lordship would not deprive you of a pleasure if you desired it very much. Now, you girls, run away and put a few things in a bonnet-box, sufficient for a forty-eight hours' trip. Perhaps, when we return, your excellency will so far honour us as to come on board and dine with us."
"Thank you, it is very kind of you."
"Not at all. I believe in showing hospitality when it is in my power to do so. Would you mind trying one of my cigars? I think you will find the flavour excellent."
Sir Charles hesitated for a moment, then took the proffered weed and proceeded to cut the end off with a penknife.
Meanwhile Madeline and Kitty had rushed off to Madeline's room and began packing boxes with all possible speed.
"Rather large bonnet boxes, eh, Madeline?" Kitty questioned, with a laugh.
"Do you know, I feel like a burglar," Madeline answered.
"I never was a burglar," was the reply, "so I don't know what it feels like to be one."
"Everything will be terribly crushed," Madeline went on, "but I can't help it. Will you ring for the porter, Kitty?"
"All right, my dear, and I will drive off with the baggage while you and father are paying your adieux to the Baronet. If he were to see you going off with all these boxes he might scent mischief."
"How clever you are, Kitty," Madeline said, with a laugh. "That idea is just lovely. But will you lock these boxes, my hands are shaking so I can hardly hold the keys."
"Why, we might be escaping from a robbers' castle. What is the use of getting so excited?"
"I can't help it, Kitty. I've been looking round for weeks and weeks for some way of getting out of a most uncomfortable position, and you cannot imagine how helpless I have felt. And now I feel – oh, I can't tell you what I feel – but here's the porter."
Madeline went down to the office and explained matters, and saw Kitty drive away with her luggage. Then she returned to the lounge, where Sir Charles, looking very bored, was listening to a long account of how Peter J. Harvey made his pile in copper.
On catching sight of Madeline, Peter J. brought his story to an abrupt conclusion and rose slowly to his feet.
"Need I disturb Lady Tregony and Beryl, do you think?" Madeline inquired, innocently, looking Sir Charles straight in the eyes.
"As you think best, Madeline," Sir Charles replied, blandly. "I sent up word to them that you had returned safe and sound."
"Then very likely they will be taking their afternoon nap now?"
"That is very probable."
"Should I awake them, do you think?"
"If you were going away for a week I should say yes, certainly. But if you like I will explain your absence till Friday."
"That will be best, I think." Then, turning to Mr. Harvey, she said: "Now I am ready. Kitty has gone on ahead, and has taken my few things along with her."
"I guess Kitty has some shopping to do on the way. That child is never happy unless she is spending money," and Mr. Harvey smiled, innocently.
"You will explain to Gervase, won't you, Sir Charles?" Madeline said, with one of her sweetest smiles. "It is unfortunate he did not come home to lunch. I am sure he would have liked to have seen over Mr. Harvey's yacht."
"We shall probably accept Mr. Harvey's invitation to dinner on your return," Sir Charles said, pompously.
"Of course you will, Colonel, of course you will," Peter J. said, with a drawl. "I never take a refusal from my friends without a very good reason."
"It is good of you to let me go, Sir Charles," Madeline said, reaching out her hand to say good-bye. "But I am sure I shall enjoy myself immensely. You see, I have known Mr. and Mrs. Harvey and Kitty nearly ever since I can remember, and then, I'm tremendously fond of the sea."
Sir Charles came with them to the door of the hotel and saw them into a carriage, then returned to the lounge and to his cigar.
Madeline could almost have screamed with delight when she found herself once more on the Skylark.
"At last I am free," she said to herself, "and when Sir Charles sees me again I shall be my own mistress."
Half-an-hour later the Skylark weighed anchor and put out to sea.