like this; and they say it'll be a week now afore
I'm well enough to go on to London. But I posted the letter all the
same, at Basingstoke station, as they was carrying me off; an' I took
down the address, so as to return the arf-sovering." Hilda was right, as
always. She had chosen instinctively the trustworthy person,--chosen her
at first sight, and hit the bull's-eye.

"Do you know what train the lady was in?" I asked, as she paused. "Where
was it going, did you notice?"

"It was the Southampton train, sir. I saw the board on the carriage."

That settled the question. "You are a good and an honest girl," I
said, pulling out my purse; "and you came to this misfortune through
trying--too eagerly--to help the young lady. A ten-pound note is not
overmuch as compensation for your accident. Take it, and get well. I
should be sorry to think you lost a good place through your anxiety to
help us."

The rest of my way was plain sailing now. I hurried on straight to
Southampton. There my first visit was to the office of the Castle line.
I went to the point at once. Was there a Miss Wade among the passengers
by the Dunottar Castle?

No; nobody of that name on the list.

Had any lady taken a passage at the last moment?

The clerk perpended. Yes; a lady had come by the mail train from London,
with no heavy baggage, and had gone on board direct, taking what cabin
she could get. A young lady in grey. Quite unprepared. Gave no name.
Called away in a hurry.

What sort of lady?

Youngish; good-looking; brown hair and eyes, the clerk thought; a sort
of creamy skin; and a--well, a mesmeric kind of glance that seemed to go
right through you.

"That will do," I answered, sure now of my quarry. "To which port did
she book?"

"To Cape Town."

"Very well," I said, promptly. "You may reserve me a good berth in the
next outgoing steamer."

It was just like Hilda's impulsive character to rush off in this way at
a moment's notice; and just like mine to follow her. But it piqued me a
little to think that, but for the accident of an accident, I might never
have tracked her down. If the letter had been posted in London as she
intended, and not at Basingstoke, I might have sought in vain for her
from then till Doomsday.

Ten days later, I was afloat on the Channel, bound for South Africa.

I always admired Hilda's astonishing insight into character and motive;
but I never admired it quite so profoundly as on the glorious day when