A boy now came to the door with a message from the hackman; “he couldn’t stay any longer if the lady wasn’t going to the steamer, and he wanted his pay.”

Virginia opened a small satchel that had dropped from her mother’s hand, found her purse, paid the man his dues, and counting the remainder told the doctor there was enough to provide what would be needed for the patient until other relatives could be summoned, and that should be done at once by telegrams to be paid by the recipients.

The doctor approved, and kindly offered to attend to sending the messages for her.

CHAPTER IV.

“O gloriously upon the deep
The gallant vessel rides,
And she is mistress of the winds,
And mistress of the tides.”
—­Miss Landon.

Meanwhile Edward had taken his sister on board the steamer, and she, greatly exhausted by grief, anxiety, and fatigue, had at once retired to her berth.

Edward also was weary and in need of sleep, so presently went to his state-room, leaving Ben to attend to the luggage and watch for Mrs. Conly’s arrival.

Faithful Ben waited patiently about for a couple of hours, then began to grow uneasy lest Mrs. Conly should not arrive in season.  Another hour passed, and he reluctantly roused his young master to ask what could be done.

“What’s wanted?” Edward asked, waked by Ben’s loud rap on the state-room door.

“Miss Louise she hasn’t come yet, Marse Ed’ard,” he said, “and de steamah’ll be startin’ fo’ long.  I don’ know whar to go to look her up, so please excuse me for rousin’ ye, sah.”

“Hasn’t come yet, do you say, Ben? and the vessel about to sail?” exclaimed Edward in dismay, springing from his berth to open the door.  “Why, yes,” looking at his watch, “there’s barely half an hour left, and I don’t see what we can do.”

“No time now fo’ me to go an’ hunt up Miss Louise, Marse Ed’ard?  Ise berry sorry, sah, dat I didn’t come soonah to ax you ’bout it, but I didn’t like to ’sturb you,” said Ben, looking much distressed.

“Never mind, Ben,” Edward answered kindly, “you couldn’t have gone for her, because she gave me no address, and I have not the least idea where to send for her.”

“Den what am to be done, sah?”

“We will have to sail without her.  I could not think of asking my sister to wait for the next steamer,” Edward said, more as if thinking aloud than talking to Ben.

The latter bowed respectfully and withdrew, but only to come hurrying back the next moment with a telegram from Virginia.

“Mother taken suddenly ill.  Remains with me.  Send luggage to No. ——­ street.”

This news of his aunt’s illness caused Edward regret not wholly unmingled with satisfaction in the thought of being spared her companionship on the voyage and afterward.

He read the message aloud to Ben.  “You see it would have done no good if we could have gone for her,” he remarked.  “But go, make haste to have the baggage sent ashore to the address given here.”