"Certainly," said Hilton.

"I came out here to speak to her," continued little Mrs Bolter; "because if she gets into my little drawing-room, she takes a seat, and I can never get her out again. Perhaps," she whispered, "she'll go as soon as she has said all she wants to Mr Harley."

Hilton followed the little troubled body into the drawing-room, and then started and turned hot as he saw Grey Stuart rise to her feet, and stand there, looking deadly pale.

"Miss Stuart!" he exclaimed.

She made an effort to control herself, but her strength was not superhuman; and coming forward, she took Hilton's extended hand, looked at him with her lips quivering, and then burst into a loud fit of sobbing.

"We thought you dead," she said, in an excited manner. "Pray forgive me. It is so weak. But Helen?"

"We have great hopes of rescuing her," said Hilton, whose heart was beating fast, as he asked himself what this emotion really meant. Then he cooled down and felt hurt, for he told himself that her last words explained it. Helen Perowne and she had been schoolfellows, and he had disappeared at the same time; now he had returned, but without Helen, and his appearance was a shock to her.

"There, there, there, my dear child," said Mrs Bolter, who felt scandalised at this weakness on the part of her favourite; "don't cry-- pray don't cry. You're very glad to see Captain Hilton back of course, but you must save a few tears for poor Mr Chumbley as well. When is he coming to see us, Captain Hilton?"

"Not on this side of our expedition," said the young officer, quietly.

"We start as soon as possible, and have hopes of bringing back Miss Perowne and your brother."

"Then you do think he was taken as well, Captain Hilton?" cried Mrs Bolter, eagerly.

"I feel sure he was, now," replied Hilton. "He was no doubt in attendance upon Miss Perowne, and they were taken together."

"Then if he was," said little Mrs Bolter, brightening, "I am very glad, for Helen Perowne's sake for some things," she added, giving her head a sharp shake.

This short colloquy gave Grey Stuart an opportunity of recovering herself; and she blessed the brisk, talkative little woman for drawing attention from her, so that when next she spoke, she was able to command herself thoroughly, and continue the conversation in her ordinary calm, self-possessed way.

"I began to despair at one time of getting back to the station," Hilton said, lightly; "and I was very tired of being a prisoner, I a.s.sure you."

He looked intently at Grey as he spoke, and the pleasant warmth of her manner as she replied touched and pleased him but he was fain to confess that it was only the lively interest that any girl in her position would take in one who had been lost in the same way as he, and was now found.

"I am very glad to see you back, Mr Hilton," she said. "We were in great trouble about you. But when shall we see Mr Chumbley?"

"Soon, I hope," he replied, quietly, and there was a curious sinking feeling at his heart as she spoke.

"She would have shown just as much emotion at seeing him for the first time," he thought. "What a sweet, innocent, gracious little woman it is, and how much happier I might have been, if I had made her the object of my pursuit."

"Tell me about Mr Chumbley," said Grey, taking up her work; "did he suffer much when you were prisoners?"

"Suffer? No!" said Hilton, smiling. "If he did, he never showed it.

He's a splendid fellow, and takes things so coolly."

"Oh, yes, he is, indeed!" cried Grey. "I do like Mr Chumbley."

Hilton's heart sank a little lower, and there was almost a ring of sadness in his voice as he went on:

"He kept my spirits up wonderfully by his _nonchalant_, easy way. He was a capital companion and never once showed that he was low-spirited or suffered in the least."

"He is very strong and brave, is he not?" said Grey.

"Why, the little body loves him," thought Hilton; "and I had hoped--Bah!

let me be a man, and not a manger-loving cur. What right have I to think she could have cared for me?"

"Strong and brave!" he said, aloud. "Why, Chumbley professes to be a coward--"

"A coward! Oh, no!" cried Grey, flushing. "I cannot believe--"

"While he is as brave as a lion," said Hilton. "That he is, I am sure,"

cried Grey, warmly; and her cheeks flushed, and her eyes sparkled as she spoke.

"Chum, old fellow," said Hilton, sadly to himself; "I used to laugh at you because you were bested by me, as I thought, but now I envy you your luck. Well, never mind, I can bear it, I daresay, and you deserve it all. I think I shall go back and marry the Inche Maida after all."

"Why, how serious you have turned, Captain Hilton," said Mrs Bolter.

"Captain Hilton is going away directly on what may prove a dangerous expedition."

"Of course; I had forgotten," said Mrs Bolter. "Dear me, that woman is there still, talking to Mr Harley. Will she never go?"

"She will give Chumbley a warmer welcome than she gave me," said Hilton to himself, and he looked reproachfully at the fair, sweet face before him.

"You will be glad to see Chumbley, will you not?" he said aloud.

"Oh, yes, very glad!" she exclaimed, warmly; and then, as she met his eyes fixed inquiringly, she blushed vividly.

"She colours when his name is mentioned," said Hilton to himself. "I wonder whether he cares as much for her. He must--he couldn't help it.

There, Heaven bless her! Other people are more fortunate than I."

"That dreadful woman seems as if she would not go," whispered Mrs Bolter. "Pray forgive me for leaving you, Captain Hilton, but I must not let her tease Mr Harley to death as she teases me."

As she spoke little Mrs Bolter left the room, the strident sound of Mrs Barlow's voice coming loudly as the door was opened, while when it was closed all was perfectly silent.

Grey Stuart's hand involuntarily went out as if to stay Mrs Bolter; then it fell to her side, and she sat there painfully conscious and suffering acute mental pain.

"Poor little maiden!" thought Hilton, as he saw her trouble. "She is afraid of me;" and he let his eyes rest upon the open window before he spoke. The intense heat seemed to float into the room, bearing with it the scent of the creepers outside, and of a tall tropic tree covered with white blossoms, whose spreading branches sheltered the doctor's cottage from the blazing sun.

From that hour the warm air, scented with the rich perfume of flowers and those white blossoms cl.u.s.tering without, seemed somehow to be a.s.sociated in Hilton's mind with Grey Stuart, who sat back there pale now as her white dress, wanting to speak, to break the painful silence, but not daring for some few minutes, lest he should detect the tremble in her voice.

"You start very soon, do you not, Captain Hilton?" she said.

"Yes; I hoped to have been on the river ere this," he said, with a bitter intonation that he could not check.

"And you will discover poor Helen, and bring her back?" she said, forcing herself to speak of a subject that she felt would be welcome to him.

"If men can do it, we will succeed!" he replied, earnestly.

"Poor Helen!" sighed Grey. "Tell her, Mr Hilton--from me--"

"Yes," he said, eagerly, for she hesitated and stopped.

"That her old schoolfellow's arms long to embrace her once again, and that the hours have seemed very bitter since she has been gone."