e child's disappearance. Neither master nor servant was active in
answering the bell. Farnaby submitted to be kept waiting with perfect
composure. There are occasions on which a handsome man is bound to put
his personal advantages to their best use. He took out his pocket-comb,
and touched up the arrangement of his whiskers with a skilled and gentle
hand. Approaching footsteps made themselves heard along the passage at
last. Farnaby put back his comb, and buttoned his coat briskly. "Now for
it!" he said, as the door was opened at last.
THE STORY
BOOK THE FIRST. AMELIUS AMONG THE SOCIALISTS
CHAPTER 1
Sixteen years after the date of Mr. Ronald's disastrous discovery at
Ramsgate--that is to say, in the year 1872--the steamship _Aquila_ left
the port of New York, bound for Liverpool.
It was the month of September. The passenger-list of the _Aquila_ had
comparatively few names inscribed on it. In the autumn season, the
voyage from America to England, but for the remunerative value of
the cargo, would prove to be for the most part a profitless voyage to
shipowners. The flow of passengers, at that time of year, sets steadily
the other way. Americans are returning from Europe to their own country.
Tourists have delayed the voyage until the fierce August heat of the
United States has subsided, and the delicious Indian summer is ready
to welcome them. At bed and board the passengers by the _Aquila_ on
her homeward voyage had plenty of room, and the choicest morsels for
everybody alike on the well spread dinner-table.
The wind was favourable, the weather was lovely. Cheerfulness and
good-humour pervaded the ship from stem to stern. The courteous captain
did the honours of the cabin-table with the air of a gentleman who was
receiving friends in his own house. The handsome doctor promenaded the
deck arm-in-arm with ladies in course of rapid recovery from the first
gastric consequences of travelling by sea. The excellent chief engineer,
musical in his leisure moments to his fingers' ends, played the fiddle
in his cabin, accompanied on the flute by that young Apollo of the
Atlantic trade, the steward's mate. Only on the third morning of the
voyage was the harmony on board the _Aquila_ disturbed by a passing
moment of discord--due to an unexpected addition to the ranks of the
passengers, in the shape of a lost bird!
It was merely a weary little land-bird (blown out of its course, as the
learned in such ma
|