Henderson stood stiff as a poker, refusing to argue the point.
"A governess, maybe," suggested the captain.
"More likely," said Uncle John, "young Denton married a widow, with--eh--eh--incumbrances."
"That's it, sir," said Henderson earnestly.
"The incumbrances, sir. No other word could describe 'em."
Patsy's heart sank; she was greatly disappointed.
"And she so young and pretty!" she murmured.
Henderson started to smile, but quickly suppressed it.
"Shall I show them up, Miss?" he inquired.
"Of course," answered Uncle John, as the girl hesitated. "You should have brought her to us at once. Where is that Belgian--Rondel?"
"She's a little difficult to manage, sir, at times. She left Charleroi willingly enough, but she's tricky, and it is our duty to deliver her to you safely."
"Get her at once, Henderson," exclaimed Patsy, recovering her wits; "and the dear children, too."
Presently there was a sound of shuffling on the stairs and through the corridor. The door opened to admit the arrivals from Charleroi.
Henderson first pushed in a big woman dressed in a faded blue-checked gown, belted around the waist in a manner that made her look like a sack tied in the middle. Her head was bare, her hair awry, her face sullen and hard; she was undeniably "fleshy" and not altogether clean. She resisted Henderson at every step and glared around her with shrewd and shifting eyes.
Following her came Monsieur Rondel leading a boy and a girl, the latter being a small replica of the woman. The boy was viciously struggling to bite the hand of the Belgian, who held him fast.
"Ah, well," said Rondel, first sighing and then turning with a smile to face the lieutenant, "we have performed our mission. But heaven guard us from another like it!"
"This cannot be Mrs. Denton," she gasped, bewildered.
"Indeed?" answered Rondel in English. "She declares that is her name. Question her in French or Flemish, Miss Doyle."
Patsy addressed the woman in French but could elicit no reply. She stood impassive and silent.
"How did you make the mistake?" asked the girl, looking reproachfully first at Henderson and then at Rondel, both of whom were evidently astonished to find themselves at fault. "I have seen a photograph of Mrs. Andrew Denton, taken recently, and she is young and pretty and--and--rather small."