“Was that call, when she did not see him, all she ever heard of him?”
“All! except that he left a fragment of paper with the servant, with the one pencil scrawl, ’A Dieu!’—a capital D to mark the full meaning. She once showed it to me—folded so as to fit into the back of a locket with his photograph.”
“Dear Jenny! And had you traced him on board this ship?”
“No, but his name was in the list; and we knew he had strong fancy for South Africa, whither the Hippolyta was bound. In fact he ought to have been a sailor, and only yielded to his mother’s wishes.”
“We knew a Mr. Archibald Douglas once,” said Anne; “he came and outspanned by us when he was going north after elephants. He stayed a fortnight, because his wagon had to be mended.”
“O, Julius! if we could but find him for her again!” cried Rosamond.
“I am afraid Archibald Douglas is not much more individual a name than John Smith,” said Julius, sadly.
“That tells as much against the Hippolyta man,” said Rosamond.
“Poor Archie would not be difficult to identify,” said Julius; “for his hair was like mine, though his eyes were blue, and not short-sighted.”
“That is all right, then,” cried Anne; “for we had a dispute whether he were young or old, and I remember mamma saying he had a look about him as if his hair might have turned white in a single night.”
“Julius! Now won’t you believe?” cried Rosamond.
“Had he a Scotch accent?” said Julius.
“No; I recollect papa’s telling him he never should have guessed him to be a Scot by his tongue; and he said he must confess that he had never seen Scotland.”
“Now, Julius!” pleaded Rosamond, with clasped hands, as if Jenny’s fate hung on his opinion.
“How long ago was this?” asked he.
“Four years,” said Anne, with a little consideration. “He came both in going and returning, and Alick was wild to join him if he ever passed our way again. My father liked him so much that he was almost ready to consent; but he never came again. Ivory hunters go more from Natal now.”
“You will trace him! There’s a dear Anne!” exclaimed Rosamond.
“I will write to them at home; Alick knows a good many hunters, and could put Miles into the way of making inquiries, if he touches at Natal on his way home.”
“Miles will do all he can,” said Julius; “he was almost broken-hearted when he found how Archie had gone. I think he was even more his hero than Raymond when we were boys, because he was more enterprising; and my mother always thought Archie’s baffled passion for the sea reacted upon Miles.”
“He will do it! He will find him, if he is the Miles I take him for! How old was he—Archie, I mean?”
“A year older than Raymond; but he always seemed much younger, he was so full of life and animation—so unguarded, poor fellow! He used to play tricks with imitating hand-writing; and these, of course, were brought up against him.”