They had not returned when Venetia joined her mother.  That indeed she could scarcely expect.  But, in about half an hour, a message arrived from Captain Cadurcis that they were not at Spezzia, but from something he had heard, he had no doubt they were at Sarzana, and he was going to ride on there at once.  He felt sure, however, from what he had heard, they were at Sarzana.  This communication afforded Lady Annabel a little ease, but Venetia’s heart misgave her.  She recalled the alarm of George in the morning, which it was impossible for him to disguise, and she thought she recognised in this hurried message and vague assurances of safety something of the same apprehension, and the same fruitless efforts to conceal it.

Now came the time of terrible suspense.  Sarzana was nearly twenty miles distant from Spezzia.  The evening must arrive before they could receive intelligence from Captain Cadurcis.  In the meantime the squall died away, the heavens became again bright, and, though the waves were still tumultuous, the surf was greatly decreased.  Lady Annabel had already sent down more than one messenger to the bay, but they brought no intelligence; she resolved now to go herself, that she might have the satisfaction of herself cross-examining the fishermen who had been driven in from various parts by stress of weather.  She would not let Venetia accompany her, who, she feared, might already suffer from the exertions and rough weather of the morning.  This was a most anxious hour, and yet the absence of her mother was in some degree a relief to Venetia; it at least freed her from the perpetual effort of assumed composure.  While her mother remained, Venetia had affected to read, though her eye wandered listlessly over the page, or to draw, though the pencil trembled in her hand; anything which might guard her from conveying to her mother that she shared the apprehensions which had already darkened her mother’s mind.  But now that Lady Annabel was gone, Venetia, muffling herself up in her shawl, threw herself on a sofa, and there she remained without a thought, her mind a chaos of terrible images.

Her mother returned, and with a radiant countenance, Venetia sprang from the sofa.  ‘There is good news; O mother! have they returned?’

‘They are not at Spezzia,’ said Lady Annabel, throwing herself into a chair panting for breath; ’but there is good news.  You see I was right to go, Venetia.  These stupid people we send only ask questions, and take the first answer.  I have seen a fisherman, and he says he heard that two persons, Englishmen he believes, have put into Lerici in an open boat.’

‘God be praised!’ said Venetia.  ’O mother, I can now confess to you the terror I have all along felt.’

‘My own heart assures me of it, my child,’ said Lady Annabel weeping; and they mingled their tears together, but tears not of sorrow.

‘Poor George!’ said Lady Annabel, ’he will have a terrible journey to Sarzana, and be feeling so much for us!  Perhaps he may meet them.’