he had been
DRINKING HEAVILY. Perhaps it was well that you did not see him, but I
thought you ought to know what had happened in case you came down again.
It's all very dreadful, and I wonder if that is why I was so nervous all
the afternoon. It may have been a kind of presentiment. Don't you think
so?

Yours faithfully,

SIBYL EVERSLEIGH.

I am afraid Randolph thought more of the simple-minded girl who, in the
midst of her excitement, turned to him half unconsciously, than he did
of Sir William. Had it not been for the necessity of seeing the captain,
he would probably have taken the next train to the rectory. Perhaps
he might later. He thought little of Sir William's illness, and was
inclined to accept the young girl's naive suggestion of its cause.
He read and reread the letter, staring at the large, grave, childlike
handwriting--so like herself--and obeying a sudden impulse, raised the
signature, as gravely as if it had been her hand, to his lips.

Still the day advanced and the captain came not. Randolph found the
inactivity insupportable. He knew not where to seek him; he had no
more clue to his resorts or his friends--if, indeed, he had any
in London--than he had after their memorable first meeting in San
Francisco. He might, indeed, be the dupe of an impostor, who, at the
eleventh hour, had turned craven and fled. He might be, in the captain's
indifference, a mere instrument set aside at his pleasure. Yet he could
take advantage of Miss Eversleigh's letter and seek her, and confess
everything, and ask her advice. It was a great and at the moment it
seemed to him an overwhelming temptation. But only for the moment.
He had given his word to the captain--more, he had given his youthful
FAITH. And, to his credit, he never swerved again. It seemed to him,
too, in his youthful superstition, as he looked at the abandoned
portmanteau, that he had again to take up his burden--his "trust."

It was nearly four o'clock when the spell was broken. A large packet,
bearing the printed address of a London and American bank, was brought
to him by a special messenger; but the written direction was in
the captain's hand. Randolph tore it open. It contained one or two
inclosures, which he hastily put aside for the letter, two pages of
foolscap, which he read breathlessly:--

DEAR TRENT,--Don't worry your head if I have slipped my cable without
telling you. I'm all right, only I got the news you are bringing me,
JUST AFT