Day had broken before the several denizens of the Wilderness had all

returned to their homes, the police finished their inquiries, and all

come back to its normal quiet. Mrs. Westmacott had been left sleeping

peacefully with a small chloral draught to steady her nerves and a

handkerchief soaked in arnica bound round her head.

It was with some surprise, therefore, that the Admiral received a note from her about ten

o'clock, asking him to be good enough to step in to her. He hurried in,

fearing that she might have taken some turn for the worse, but he was

reassured to find her sitting up in her bed, with Clara and Ida Walker

in attendance upon her. She had removed the handkerchief, and had put on

a little cap with pink ribbons, and a maroon dressing-jacket, daintily

fulled at the neck and sleeves.

"My dear friend," said she as he entered, "I wish to make a last few

remarks to you. No, no," she continued, laughing, as she saw a look of

dismay upon his face. "I shall not dream of dying for at least another

thirty years. A woman should be ashamed to die before she is seventy.

I wish, Clara, that you would ask your father to step up. And you, Ida,

just pass me my cigarettes, and open me a bottle of stout."

"Now then," she continued, as the doctor joined their party. "I don't

quite know what I ought to say to you, Admiral. You want some very plain

speaking to."

"'Pon my word, ma'am, I don't know what you are talking about."

"The idea of you at your age talking of going to sea, and leaving that

dear, patient little wife of yours at home, who has seen nothing of you

all her life! It's all very well for you. You have the life, and the

change, and the excitement, but you don't think of her eating her heart

out in a dreary London lodging. You men are all the same."

"Well, ma'am, since you know so much, you probably know also that I have

sold my pension. How am I to live if I do not turn my hand to work?"

Mrs. Westmacott produced a large registered envelope from beneath the

sheets and tossed it over to the old seaman.

"That excuse won't do. There are your pension papers. Just see if they

are right."

He broke the seal, and out tumbled the very papers which he had made

over to McAdam two days before.




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