Gradually he led the talk back to Keyport, this time telling her of his men and their peculiarities and humors; of Caleb and his young and pretty wife; and of Aunty Bell's watchful care over his comfort whenever he spent the night at Captain Joe's.
Nothing had disturbed the other guests. The clink of the major's glass and the intermittent gurgle of the rapidly ebbing decanter as Sam supplied his wants could still be heard from the softly lighted room. On the foreordained divan, half hidden by a curtain, sat Jack and Helen, their shoulders touching, studying the contents of a portfolio,--some of the drawings upside down, their low talk broken now and then by a happy, irrelevant laugh.
By this time the moon had risen over the treetops, the tall buildings far across the quadrangle breaking the sky-line. Below could be seen the night life of the Park: miniature figures strolling about under the trees, flashing in brilliant light or swallowed up in dense shadow, as they passed through the glare of the many lamps scattered among the budding foliage; a child romping with a dog, or a belated woman wheeling a baby carriage home. The night was still, the air soft and balmy; only the hum of the busy street a block away could be heard where they stood.
Suddenly the figure of a boy darted across the white patch of pavement below them. Sanford leaned far over the railing, a strange, unreasoning dread in his heart.
"Looks like a messenger," Sanford answered.
Mrs. Leroy bent over the railing, and watched the boy spring up the low steps of the street door, ring the bell violently, and beat an impatient tattoo with his foot.
"Whom do you want?" Sanford called gently.
The boy looked up, and, seeing the two figures on the balcony, answered, "Mr. Henry Sanford. Got a death message."
"A death message, did he say?" gasped Mrs. Leroy. Her voice was almost a whisper.
"Yes; don't move." He laid a hand on her arm and pointed toward the group inside. A quick, sharp contraction rose in his throat. "Sam," he called in a lowered tone.
"Sam, there's a boy at the outside door with a telegram. He says it's a death message. Get it, and tell the boy to wait. Go quietly, now, and let no one know. You will find me here."