“I beg your pardon, ma’am.  Do you happen to have a smelling-bottle about you?  There is a young lady in the conservatory who is taken faint.”

Between the Scenes

The Landing Stage

Chapter 5.

The morning of the next day—­the morning on which the ships were to sail—­came bright and breezy.  Mrs. Crayford, having arranged to follow her husband to the water-side, and see the last of him before he embarked, entered Clara’s room on her way out of the house, anxious to hear how her young friend passed the night.  To her astonishment she found Clara had risen, and was dressed, like herself, to go out.

“What does this mean, my dear?  After what you suffered last night—­after the shock of seeing that man—­why don’t you take my advice and rest in your bed?”

“I can’t rest.  I have not slept all night.  Have you been out yet?”

“No.”

“Have you seen or heard anything of Richard Wardour?”

“What an extraordinary question!”

“Answer my question!  Don’t trifle with me!”

“Compose yourself, Clara.  I have neither seen nor heard anything of Richard Wardour.  Take my word for it, he is far enough away by this time.”

“No!  He is here!  He is near us!  All night long the presentiment has pursued me—­Frank and Richard Wardour will meet.”

“My dear child! what are you thinking of?  They are total strangers to each other.”

“Something will happen to bring them together.  I feel it!  I know it!  They will meet—­there will be a mortal quarrel between them—­and I shall be to blame.  Oh, Lucy! why didn’t I take your advice?  Why was I mad enough to let Frank know that I loved him?  Are you going to the landing-stage?  I am all ready—­I must go with you.”

“You must not think of it, Clara.  There will be crowding and confusion at the water-side.  You are not strong enough to bear it.  Wait—­I won’t be long away—­wait till I come back.”

“I must and will go with you!  Crowd? He will be among the crowd!  Confusion?  In that confusion he will find his way to Frank!  Don’t ask me to wait.  I shall go mad if I wait.  I shall not know a moment’s ease until I have seen Frank, with my own eyes, safe in the boat which takes him to his ship!  You have got your bonnet on; what are we stopping here for?  Come! or I shall go without you.  Look at the clock; we have not a moment to lose!”

It was useless to contend with her.  Mrs. Crayford yielded.  The two women left the house together.

The landing-stage, as Mrs. Crayford had predicted, was thronged with spectators.  Not only the relatives and friends of the Arctic voyagers, but strangers as well, had assembled in large numbers to see the ships sail.  Clara’s eyes wandered affrightedly hither and thither among the strange faces in the crowd; searching for the one face that she dreaded to see, and not finding it.  So completely were her nerves unstrung, that she started with a cry of alarm on suddenly hearing Frank’s voice behind her.