"Sophia," said her brother in a low tone, "go to the gate: that boy wants to speak to you. Go and see what he wants and return to me."
Miss Landale gasped, gazed at her brother as if she thought him mad, looked round at the little boy, coloured violently, then meeting Rupert's eye again staggered off without a word of protest.
Rupert, shaken with silent laughter, humming a little song to himself, stooped to pick a couple of tender spring flowers from the border beside the grave, and after slipping them into a button-hole of his many caped overcoat, stood looking out over the stretch of land and sea, where Scarthey rose like a dream against the sparkle of the water and the exquisite blue of the sky.
Presently rapid panting breaths and a shuffling rustle of petticoats behind him informed him of his sister's return.
"So you are there, my dear," he said loudly. "One of your little fishing friends from the village, I suppose--a Shearman, unless I am mistaken. Yes, a Shearman; I thought so. Well, shall we return home now? They will be wondering what has become of us. Pray take my arm." Then beneath his breath, seeing that words were struggling to Sophia's lips, "Hold your tongue."
The small ragged boy watched their departure with a derisive grin, and set off at a brisk canter down to the shore, jingling some silver coin in his pocket with relish as he went.
When Rupert and Sophia had reached the wood the former paused.
"Oh, Rupert, it was a letter; had I not better destroy it?"
A hasty scrawl, it seemed, folded anyhow. Only two or three lines, yet Rupert conned them for a curiously long time.
"My darling," it ran, "meet me to-day in the ruins at noon. A misfortune has happened to me, but if you trust me, all will still be well.--Your Jack." Mr. Landale at length handed it back to Sophia.
"You will give it to Madeleine with the other," he said briefly. "Mention the fact of the messenger having brought it." And then in a terrible bass he added, "And remember your oath!"
She trembled; but as he walked onwards through the wood, his lips were smiling, and his eyes were alight with triumph.
The appointment of a regular light-keeper at Scarthey, intended to release René and old Margery from their exile, had been delayed so as to suit the arrangement which was to leave for a time the island domain of Sir Adrian at the disposal of Captain Jack. Meanwhile Moggie's presence greatly mitigated the severity of her husband's separation from his master.