d."

She spoke calmly, but her face was clouded. From her manner during the
rapid walk home Mr. Tredgold was enabled to see clearly that she was
holding him responsible for the captain's awkward behaviour; the rain;
her spoiled clothes; and a severe cold in the immediate future. He
glanced at her ruined hat and the wet, straight locks of hair hanging
about her face, and held his peace.

Never before on a Sunday afternoon had Miss Drewitt known the streets of
Binchester to be so full of people. She hurried on with bent head,
looking straight before her, trying to imagine what she looked like.
There was no sign of the captain, but as they turned into Dialstone Lane
they both saw a huge, shaggy, grey head protruding from the small window
of his bedroom. It disappeared with a suddenness almost startling.

"Thank you," said Miss Drewitt, holding out her hand as she reached the
door. "Good-bye."

Mr. Tredgold said "Good-bye," and with a furtive glance at the window
above departed. Miss Drewitt, opening the door, looked round an empty
room. Then the kitchen door opened and the face of Mr. Tasker, full of
concern, appeared.

"Did you get wet, miss?" he inquired.

Miss Drewitt ignored the question. "Where is Captain Bowers?" she asked,
in a clear, penetrating voice.

The face of Mr. Tasker fell. "He's gone to bed with a headache, miss,"
he replied.

"Headache?" repeated the astonished Miss Drewitt. "When did he go?"

"About 'arf an hour ago," said Mr. Tasker; "just after the storm. I
suppose that's what caused it, though it seems funny, considering what a
lot he must ha' seen at sea. He said he'd go straight to bed and try and
sleep it off. And I was to ask you to please not to make a noise."

Miss Drewitt swept past him and mounted the stairs. At the captain's
door she paused, but the loud snoring of a determined man made her
resolve to postpone her demands for an explanation to a more fitting
opportunity. Tired, wet, and angry she gained her own room, and threw
herself thoughtlessly into that famous old Chippendale chair which, in
accordance with Mr. Tredgold's instructions, had been placed against the
wall.

The captain started in his sleep.

[Illustration: "She threw herself thoughtlessly into that famous old
Chippendale chair."]

CHAPTER XI

Mr. Chalk's anxiety during the negotiations for the purchase of the _Fair
Emily_ kept him oscillating between Tredgold and Stobell until those
g