urns to England from
South America. You will remember that you promised last year to take
me to Rio de Janeiro and Buenos Ayres this summer; I have been learning
Spanish so as to help our sight-seeing. Unfortunately, business
prevents you from keeping that promise, but there is no reason why I
should not go. I am on board the _Andromeda_, and will probably be
able to explain matters satisfactorily to Captain Coke. The vessel is
due back at the end of September, I believe, so Mr. Bulmer will not
have long to wait. It is more than likely that Captain Coke will not
know I am aboard until Thursday, and I have arranged with a friend that
this letter shall reach you about the same time. Please convey my
apologies to Mr. Bulmer, and accept my regret for any anxiety you may
have felt owing to my unaccountable absence.

"Your affectionate niece,

"IRIS YORKE."

David narrowly escaped an apoplectic seizure. When he recovered his
senses he looked ten years older. The instinct of self-preservation
alone saved him in his frenzy from blurting forth the tidings of the
girl's flight. Incoherent with fear and passion, he contrived to give
orders for his carriage, and was driven to his office. Thence he
dispatched telegrams to every signaling station in England, Ireland,
and Spain, at which by the remotest possibility the _Andromeda_ might
be intercepted. He cabled to Madeira and Cape Verde, even to Fernando
Noronha and Pernambuco; he sent urgent instructions to the pilotage
authorities of the Bristol Channel, the southwest ports, and Lisbon;
and the text of every message was: "_Andromeda_ must return to
Liverpool instantly."

But the wretched man realized that he was doomed. Fate had struck at
him mercilessly. He could only wait in dumb despair, and mutter
prayers too long forgotten, and concoct bogus letters from a cousin's
address in the south of England for the benefit of Dickey Bulmer.

Never was ship more eagerly sought than the _Andromeda_, yet never was
ship more completely engulfed in the mysterious silence of the great
sea. The days passed, and the weeks, yet nothing was heard of her.
She figured in the "overdue" list at Lloyd's; sharp-eyed underwriters
did "specs" in her; woe-begone women began to haunt the Liverpool
office for news of husbands and sons; the love-lorn Dickey wore Verity
to a shadow of his former self by alternate pleadings and threats; but
the _Andromeda_ remained mute, and the fanciful l