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"None, whatever. We called at the telegraph office and asked the s.h.i.+pping agent, but without result."
"I hope the scoundrel will be drowned."
"I hope not," chimed in Reg, emphatically.
"I don't think you need fear that," said Hal with light cynicism.
"Fellows of his stamp have nine lives. If he were a useful man in the world then I should despair."
"What do you intend doing now?" asked Goody, anxiously.
"We intend going to Eastella and bringing your daughter to reason," said Hal, with determination.
"I admire your perseverance, but I am afraid you will be doomed to disappointment, for she always had a will of her own, but I never knew how strong it was until now."
"Never fear, sir. So far we have succeeded and I have no doubt our success will continue."
"And what shall I do?" asked Goody.
"Well, if you have any friends here, I suggest you should go to them for a day or two."
"You don't mean to desert me?" asked the old man, with a perplexity almost comic.
"Not by any means, sir. But we intend to live at Eastella, and for many reasons it would be better for you not to go with us. If we left you alone, I am afraid you would fret and worry, so I thought if you had an old acquaintance who would cheer you up--"
"Now I understand. I have plenty. There's old Brown, for one--he and I were schoolfellows. I know he'll be glad to see me."
"That's right. Let us know where she lives. And now get ready and rely on us to wire to you when it's time to come back and open your arms to take your daughter back to your heart again, from which you will find she has never really been estranged."
That evening all three had left the "Orient"; Hal and Reg for Eastella, and Goody for his old friend's house at Broadmeadows.
CHAPTER XV.
MAY.
As soon as the boys had made satisfactory arrangements about their rooms they had a long interview with Mrs. Eastwood, and as she was considered almost one of the Goodchild family, nothing of importance was kept back from her. It was arranged that Hal should be introduced to Miss Goodchild at the earliest possible moment. Fortune favoured their plot, for while they were together the lady herself appeared to enquire for letters, and with obvious reluctance underwent the ceremony of introduction to the two visitors.
May Goodchild was a tall, good-looking girl, with fair hair and pleasing features. Her face shewed her to possess a strong capacity for strong emotions, an intensity of love or hatred, both equally dangerous when roused. Hal's sharpened faculties of observation had made him a keen physiognomist and, in the brief moment of introduction he flattered himself he had read the chief points of her character.
She was about to leave the room, after looking at the letter-rack, when Hal who had been gazing at the rack, remarked in a casual manner to Mrs.
Eastwood:
"Wyckliffe must have a large number of correspondents to judge by the heap of letters waiting for him here."
Miss Goodchild paused. She was on the _qui vive_ instantly.
"You know Mr. Wyckliffe, don't you, Mr. Winter?" said Mrs. Eastwood, taking the cue.
"Oh yes, rather! known him a long time. I heard from him the other day,"
answered Hal, boldly.
May walked away, but not hurriedly, and Hal, seizing his opportunity, followed her out of the room.
"What a delightful morning, Miss Goodchild."
"Yes, it is," she answered. Then after a pause, she added, "Mr. Winter, you said you had heard from Mr. Wyckliffe. Can you tell me when he will return, as he is a friend of mine."
"Now I remember, Miss Goodchild. I have important news for you concerning him."
"What! news of him for me. Oh! tell me at once, please," and her whole face lit up with expectation.
"It is rather a long story," said Hal. "If we could talk together privately it would be preferable."
"Oh, I'll arrange that. You can come to my sitting-room. I'll just run and tell Mrs. Eastwood," and away she flew in a happy, childish way, very different to her languid manner previously. Mrs. Eastwood could scarcely believe, her eyes as the girl rushed into the office, crying:
"He has news for me. I am taking him to my parlour."
"This way, Mr. Winter," she cried out, as she re-appeared and ran up the stairs. "Do hurry, I am so anxious. There, come this way and sit down.
Now we are quite private. Go on."
Her haste had left Hal breathless, and he was rather taken aback, as he had scarcely had time to formulate his plan of action.
"Before I commence, I wish to ask your permission to--"
"It is granted," she said, hurriedly.
"Your permission to speak in an open and candid way, and that you will hear me out to the end."
"Most decidedly, but why this precaution? You said Wyck was a friend of yours."
"Pardon me, Miss Goodchild, I never said he was a friend of mine. He is anything but that."
"But you will bear in mind, sir, he is a friend of mine, and if you have anything to his disparagement to say I would rather not hear it for I love him. There now it is out."
"I am obliged for your candour, but as what I have to say is not to his credit, I had better leave."
"No sir, since you put it that way, I will hear you."
Once more was the tale repeated, but never before with the strength and pathos that Hal put into his voice now. At the conclusion, neither spoke for some moments. At last, May broke the silence:
"You can prove your statements, Mr. Winter?"
"Yes, unfortunately for my friend I can. They have left undoubted traces behind them."
"If you can prove them, and Wyck turns out the villain you say, think for a moment what the result will be. I am no ordinary girl full of puling sentiment. I love or I hate, and if my love is trampled on, there is a dangerous woman to be faced who will thirst for revenge. So be careful," and her voice took a stern, menacing tone.