But Rupert did not at once mention the nature of his decision. He began to repeat Captain Somer's story; he told her what kind of a place the Rocas Reef was like; he even begged Fane to fetch an atlas from the study and show her the spot where the _Arizona_ had been wrecked.

"You must please not mention this matter to the Herons when you are writing, you know, Angela," he continued, "or to Miss Murray. It is a mere chance--the smallest chance in the world--and it would not be fair to excite their hopes."

"But it is a chance, is it not, Rupert?"

"Yes, dear, it is a chance."

"Then can nothing be done?"

"I think something must be done," said he, quietly. There was a purpose in his tone, a hopeful light in his face, which she could not but remark.

"What will you do, Rupert?"

"I think, dear," he said, smiling, "that the easiest plan would be for me to go out to the Rocas Reef myself."

"You, Rupert!"

"Yes, I, myself. That is if Fane will go with me."

"I shall be delighted," said Fane, whose grey eyes danced with pleasure at the idea.

"You must take me, too," said Angela.

It was Rupert's turn now to ejaculate. "You, Angela! My dear child, you are joking."

"I'm not joking at all. You would be much more comfortable if I went, too. And I think that Aunt Alice would go with us, if we asked her. Why not? You want to travel, and I have nothing to keep me in England. Let us go together."

Rupert smiled. "I want to lose no time," he said. "I must travel fast."

"I am fond of travelling. And I shall be so lonely while you are away."

That argument was a strong one. Rupert conceded the point. Angela should go with him on condition that Aunt Alice--usually known as Mrs.

Norman--should go too. They would travel with all reasonable swiftness, and if--as was to be feared--their expedition should prove unsuccessful, they could loiter a little as they came back, and make themselves acquainted with various pleasant and interesting places on their way.

They spent the rest of the evening in discussing their route.

Rupert was rich enough to carry out his whim--if whim it could be called--in the pleasantest and speediest way. Before long he was the temporary owner of a fine little schooner, in which he proposed to scour the seas in search of his missing friend. To his great satisfaction, Captain Somers consented to act as his skipper: a crew of picked men was obtained; and the world in general received the information that Mr.

Vivian and his sister were going on a yachting expedition for the good of their health, and would probably not return to England for many months.

Rupert's spirits rose perceptibly at the prospect of the voyage. He was tired of inaction, and welcomed the opportunity of a complete change. He had not much hope of finding Percival, but he was resolved, at any rate, to explore the Rocas Reef, and discover any existing traces of the _Arizona_. "And who knows but what there may be some other poor fellows on that desolate reef?" he said to his secretary, Fane, who was wild with impatience to set off. "We can but go and see. If we are unsuccessful we will go round Cape Horn and up to Fiji. I always had a hankering after those lovely Pacific islands. If you are going down Pall Mall, Fane, you might step into Harrison's and order those books by Miss Bird and Miss Gordon Cumming--you know the ones I mean. They will make capital reading on board."

Angela had been making some purchases in Kensington one afternoon, and was thinking that it was time to return home, when she came unexpectedly face to face with an acquaintance. It was Elizabeth Murray.

Angela knew her slightly, but had always liked her. A great wave of sympathy rose in her heart as her eyes rested upon the face of a woman who had, perhaps, lost her lover, even as Angela had lost hers.

Elizabeth's face had parted with its beautiful bloom; it was pale and worn, and the eyelids looked red and heavy, as though from sleepless nights and many tears. The two clasped hands warmly. Angela's lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears, but Elizabeth's face was rigidly set in an enforced quietude.

"I am glad I have met you," she said. "I was wondering where to find you. I did not know your address."

"Come and see me now," said Angela, by a sudden impulse.

"Thank you. I will."

A few minutes' walking brought them to the old house which Rupert had lately taken. It was in a state of some confusion: boxes stood in the passages, parcels were lying about the floor. Angela coloured a little as she saw Elizabeth's eye fall on some of these.

"We are going away," she said, hurriedly, "on a sea-voyage. The doctors have been recommending it to Rupert for some time."

This was strictly true.

"I knew you were going away," said Elizabeth, in a low tone.

She was standing beside a table in the drawing-room: her left hand rested upon it, her eyes were fixed absently upon the muff which she carried in her right hand. Angela asked her to sit down. But Elizabeth did not seem to hear. She began to speak with a nervous tremor in her voice which made Angela feel nervous, too.

"I have heard a strange thing," she said. "I have heard it rumoured that you are going to cross the Atlantic--that you mean to visit the Rocas Reef. Tell me, please, if it is true or not."

Angela did not know what to say.

"We are going to South America," she murmured, with a somewhat embarrassed smile. "We may pass the Rocas Reef."

"Ah, speak to me frankly," said Elizabeth, putting down her muff and moving forward with a slight gesture of supplication. "Mr. Vivian was Percival's friend. Does he really mean to go and look for him? Do they think that some of the crew and passengers may be living upon the island still?"

"There is just a chance," said Angela, quoting her brother. "He means to go and see. We did not tell you: we were afraid you might be too--too--hopeful."

"I will not be too hopeful. I will be prudent and calm. But you must tell me all about it. Do you really think there is any chance? Oh, you are happy: you can go and see for yourself, and I can do nothing--nothing--nothing! And it was my doing that he went!"

Her voice sank into a low moan. She clasped her hands together and wrung them a little beneath her cloak. Angela, looking at her with wet, sympathetic eyes, had a sudden inspiration. She held out her hand.

"Come with us," she said, gently. "Why should you not? We will take care of you. What would I not have given to do something for the man I loved!

If Mr. Heron is living, you shall help us to find him."

Elizabeth's face turned white. "I cannot go with you under false pretences," she said. "You will think me base--wicked; you cannot think too ill of me--but----It was not Percival Heron whom I loved. And he knew it--and loved me still. You--you--have been true in your heart to your promised husband; but I--in my heart--was false."

She covered her face and burst into passionate weeping as she spoke. But Angela did not hesitate.

"If that is the case," she said, very softly and sweetly, "if you are anxious to repair any wrong that you have done to him, help us to find him now. You have nothing to keep you in England! My brother will say what I say--Come with us."

CHAPTER XLVII.

FOUND.

"As far as I can calculate," said Percival, "this is the end of March.

Confound it! I wish I had some tobacco."

"Don't begin to wish," remarked Brian, lazily, "or you will never end."

"I haven't your philosophy. I am wishing all day long--and for nothing so much as the sight of a sail on yonder horizon."