ht fall sick on
his hands; she might have deceived him by a false character; she and
the landlady of the hotel might have been in league together.
Horrible! Really horrible to think of. Then there was the other
responsibility--perhaps the heavier of the two--the responsibility of
deciding where he was to go and spend his honeymoon to-morrow. He would
have preferred one of his father's empty houses: But except at Vauxhall
Walk (which he supposed would be objected to), and at Aldborough (which
was of course out of the question) all the houses were let. He would
put himself in Mr. Bygrave's hands. Where had Mr. Bygrave spent his own
honeymoon? Given the British Islands to choose from, where would Mr.
Bygrave pitch his tent, on a careful review of all the circumstances?

At this point the bridegroom's questions suddenly came to an end,
and the bridegroom's face exhibited an expression of ungovernable
astonishment. His judicious friend, whose advice had been at his
disposal in every other emergency, suddenly turned round on him, in the
emergency of the honeymoon, and flatly declined discussing the subject.

"No!" said the captain, as Noel Vanstone opened his lips to plead for a
hearing, "you must really excuse me. My point of view in this matter is,
as usual, a peculiar one. For some time past I have been living in an
atmosphere of deception, to suit your convenience. That atmosphere, my
good sir, is getting close; my Moral Being requires ventilation. Settle
the choice of a locality with my niece, and leave me, at my particular
request, in total ignorance of the subject. Mrs. Lecount is certain to
come here on her return from Zurich, and is certain to ask me where you
are gone. You may think it strange, Mr. Vanstone; but when I tell her I
don't know, I wish to enjoy the unaccustomed luxury of feeling, for once
in a way, that I am speaking the truth!"

With those words, he opened the sitting-room door, introduced Noel
Vanstone to Magdalen's presence, bowed himself out of the room again,
and set forth alone to while away the rest of the afternoon by taking
a walk. His face showed plain tokens of anxiety, and his party-colored
eyes looked hither and thither distrustfully, as he sauntered along the
shore. "The time hangs heavy on our hands," thought the captain. "I wish
to-morrow was come and gone."

The day passed and nothing happened; the evening and the night followed,
placidly and uneventfully. Monday came, a cloudless,