Cossie sent her cousin a heart-broken letter of farewell, full of underlined words and vague expressions of despair—­a portion of which she had copied from a dramatic love scene in a novel.  She implored him to write to her, and remained “his devoted till death, Cossie.”

Shafto thrust his devoted-till-death Cossie’s letter into the waste-paper basket, with a gesture of excommunication, and barred the doors of his memory upon her round fat face.

Preparations for departure proceeded satisfactorily.  He received a number of good wishes and not a few gifts.  The Tremenheeres sent him an express rifle, the Tebbs a dispatch box, Mrs. Malone gave him a silver cigarette case and a warm rug, Mrs. Galli gave him her blessing, and his mother gave him advice.

On the appointed day a band of friends travelled down to Tilbury to take leave of Douglas Shafto.  These included Mrs. Malone, Mr. Hutton, the two Japanese gentlemen, and several of his fellow clerks.—­Mrs. Shafto had excused herself, declaring that “her feelings would not endure the strain of a public leave-taking.”—­Shortly before the Blankshire (Bibby Line) sailed, Sandy—­alas! accompanied by Cossie—­hurried down the gangway (for Cossie was allied to the stamp of the British soldier, who never knows when he is beaten and entirely refuses to accept defeat!).  She wore her best hat—­a conspicuous affair with enormous green wings—­a somewhat murky white fur, and carried a presentation bunch of wilted flowers.  The new arrival, chattering like a magpie, took immediate possession of her cousin, snatched her away from poor Mrs. Malone, who was looking very old and sad, and insisted on inspecting his cabin and as much as was possible of the ship.  When the bell rang and the moment of parting arrived, she burst into wild unrestrained sobs, and clung, in the best melodramatic style, to her unresisting kinsman, who was compelled to accept her kisses and tears.  In fact, as her brother rudely stated, “she made a shameless show of herself, slobbering over Douglas before all the passengers, and he was sorry for the poor chap, who was covered with blushes; and not for her at all—­as anyone could see with half an eye!”

However, Cossie returned home by the Underground, fortified with the conviction that the party who had witnessed her farewell were bound to realise that Douglas Shafto was her affianced lover.

The last signal Shafto received, ere the group of friends had dissolved into a blur, was a frantic waving of Cossie’s damp handkerchief, and he turned his face towards the bows of the Blankshire, now heading down the river, with the happy exaltation of freedom and a grateful sense of escape.

CHAPTER IX

THE “BLANKSHIRE”

The Blankshire was a full and well-known ship.  Not a few of the passengers had made several trips in her and some, as they met in saloon and corridors, exchanged loud hearty greetings and hailed one another as old friends.  These were chiefly planters and officials from Ceylon, Southern India and Burma, who herded in parties both at meals and on deck.