irections to which no one
had time to attend, and now and then an angry exclamation over the
eagerly read letters: 'And where's mother living now?' 'We've lost
that 7.40 express all through that infernal tender!' 'Look here, don't
take that bag up on deck to get wet, d'ye hear?' 'Jolly to be back in
the old place again, eh?' 'I wish I'd never left it--that d----d
scoundrel has gone and thrown all those six houses into Chancery!' and
so on, those of the passengers who were not talking or reading being
engaged in filling up the telegraph forms brought on board for their
convenience. Mark extricated himself from the hubbub as soon as he
could, and got hold of the steward. There was a gentleman on board of
the name of Holroyd; he seemed well enough, as far as the steward
knew, though a bit poorly when he first came aboard, to be sure; he
was in his berth just then getting his things together to go ashore,
but he'd be up on deck directly. Half sick and half glad at this
additional delay, Mark left the saloon and lingered listlessly about
above, watching the Lascars hauling up baggage from the hold--they
would have been interesting enough to him at any other time, with
their seamed bilious complexions of every degree of swarthiness, set
off by the touches of colour in their sashes and head coverings, their
strange cries and still more uncouth jocularity--but he soon tired of
them, and wandered aft, where the steamer-chairs, their usefulness at
an end for that voyage, were huddled together dripping and forlorn on
the damp red deck. He was still standing by them, idly turning over
the labels attached to their backs, and reading the names thereon
without the slightest real curiosity, when he heard a well-remembered
voice behind him crying, 'Mark, my dear old fellow, so you've come
after all! I was half afraid you wouldn't think it worth your while. I
can't tell you how glad I am to see you!' And he turned with a guilty
start to face the man he had wronged.

'Evidently,' thought Mark, 'he knows nothing yet, or he wouldn't meet
me like this!' and he gripped the cordial hand held out to him with
convulsive force; his face was white and his lips trembled, he could
not speak.

Such unexpected emotion on his part touched and gratified Holroyd, who
patted him on the shoulder affectionately. 'It's all right, old boy, I
understand,' he said; 'so you _did_ think I was gone after all? Well,
this is a greater pleasure to me than ever it c