hroat, she asked the sailor if the
cargo vessel were already in the harbour, and if it were possible that
she might go on board now, and wait there till it should be time to set
sail.

"We're expecting of her in every minute," said the man, looking at
Honor curiously. "You can speak to the captain when she comes. Maybe
he'd let you, maybe he wouldn't; I shouldn't like to give an
opinion"--which, to say the least, was not consoling.

Honor walked on a little farther down the landing-stage, trying to wink
back her tears. She was in a desperate strait, and almost began to wish
she had never left St. Chad's. Suppose the captain would not take her
without the money for her passage? Possibly he might not know Mr.
Donovan's name, and would think she was an impostor; what would she do
then? She turned quite cold at the idea, and had to sit down on a
bulkhead to recover herself, for she felt as though her legs were
shaking under her.

She did not remember how long she sat there. A noise and bustle behind
presently attracted her attention, and turning round, she saw that a
steamer was arriving, and that the sailors were busy catching the thick
cables and fastening the vessel to the wharf. The gangway was thrown
across, and a few passengers stepped on shore. They had evidently
travelled steerage--two or three women, with babies and bundles, and a
party of Irish labourers come over for the harvest, with their
belongings tied in red pocket-handkerchiefs; but after them strode a
tall figure, with a grey moustache, at the sight of whom Honor sprang
up from her seat with a perfect scream of delight, and raced along the
quay like a whirlwind, to fling herself joyfully into the gentleman's
arms.

"Father! Father!" she sobbed. "Oh, is it really and truly you?"

CHAPTER XVII

Janie turns Detective

Honor being safely in her father's charge, we must leave her there for
the present, and return to Chessington, to see what was happening in
the meantime at St. Chad's.

Janie's slumbers had been quiet and undisturbed until half-past six,
when she woke with a start, feeling almost ashamed of herself for being
able to sleep when her friend was in trouble. She got up at once, and
peeped round the curtain into the other cubicle, only to discover, too
late, that the bird had flown. She looked on the dressing-table to see
whether a note might have been left, but to her disappointment there
was nothing. Honor had vanished mysteriousl