ill they put on board before five to-morrow morning."

"Can't we sail with what we have got?"

"Not enough to carry us to Port Said."

"What will be the extent of the delay this time?" Richard asked. His
tone had an edge to it.

Again Captain Vanstone glanced at the valet.

"With luck we may get off to-morrow about midnight."

He stepped back, shook himself like a big dog, scattering the water off
his oilskins in a shower upon the slippery deck. Then he came inside
the cabin and stood near Richard. His expression was very kindly,
tender almost.

"You must excuse me, sir," he said. "I know it doesn't come within my
province to give you advice. But you do look pretty ill, Sir Richard.
Every one's remarking that. And you are ill, sir--you know it, and I
know it, and Mr. Powell here knows it. You ought to see a doctor,
sir--and if you'll pardon plain language, this beastly cess-pit of a
harbour is not a fit place for you to sleep in."

And poor Dickie, after an instant of sharp annoyance, touched by the
man's honest humanity smiled upon him--a smile of utter weariness,
utter homelessness.

"Perfectly true. Get me out to sea then, Vanstone. I shall be better
there than anywhere else," he said.

Whereupon the kindly sailor-man turned away, swearing gently into his
trim, black beard.

But the valet remained, impassive in manner, actively anxious at heart.

"Have you any orders for the carriage, sir?" he asked. "Garcia drove me
down. I told him to wait until I had inquired."

Richard was long in replying. His brain was all confused and clouded
again, while again he heard the voice of the famous soprano--"_Ernani,
Ernani, involami_."

"Yes," he said at last. "Tell Garcia to be here in good time to drive
me to the San Carlo. I have an appointment at the opera to-night."

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH DICKIE GOES TO THE END OF THE WORLD AND LOOKS OVER THE WALL

The opera box, which Richard Calmady had rented along with the Villa
Vallorbes, was fifth from the stage on the third tier, to the right of
the vast horseshoe. Thus situated, it commanded a very comprehensive
view of the interior of the house. The _parterre_--its somewhat
comfortless seats, rising as on iron stilts, as they recede, row by
row, from the proscenium--was packed. While, since the aristocratic
world had not yet left town, the boxes--piled, tier above tier, without
break of dress-circle or gallery, right up to the lofty roof--were
well-filled