Mr. Wayland bent over the slumbering figure still in the bottom of the boat, heard what could be told of the draught by Loveday, whom he recognized as his wife’s attendant, and feeling Aurelia’s pulse, said, “I should not think there was need for fear.  To the outward eye she is a model of sleeping innocence.”  “Well you may say so,” and “She is indeed,” broke from the baronet and the waiting-maid at the same instant; but Mr. Wayland heeded them little as he impatiently asked, “Where and how is your mother, Amyas?”

“In health sir, at home, I suppose,” said Sir Amyas; “but oh, sir, hear me, before you see her.”

“I must, if you walk with me,” said Mr. Wayland, turning for a moment to bid his servant reward and dismiss the boat’s crew, and see to the transport of his luggage; and in the meantime Aurelia was lifted by her bearers.

Sir Amyas again uttered a rejoicing, “We feared you were in the hands of the pirates, sir.”

“So I was; but the governor of Gibraltar obtained my release, and was good enough to send me home direct in a vessel on the king’s service,” said Mr. Wayland, taking the arm his stepson offered to assist his lameness.  “Now for your explanation, Amyas; only let me hear first that my babes are well.”

“Yes, sir, all well.  You had my letter?”

“Telling of that strange disguised wedding?  I had, the very day I was captured.”

By the time they had come to the place where their ways parted, Mr. Wayland had heard enough to be so perplexed and distressed that he knew not that he had been drawn out of the way to Hanover Square, till at the entrance of the Royal York, they found Betty asseverating to the landlady that she was bringing no case of small pox into the house; and showing, as a passport of admittance, two little dents on the white wrist and temple.

At that instant the sound brought Major Delavie hurrying from his sitting-room at his best speed.  There was a look of horror on his face as he saw his daughter’s senseless condition, but Betty sprang to his side to prevent his wakening her, and Aurelia was safely carried up stairs and laid upon her sister’s bed, still sleeping, while Betty and Loveday unloosed her clothes.  Her bearers were sent for refreshment to the bar, and the gentlemen stood looking on one another in the sitting-room, Mr. Wayland utterly shocked, incredulous of the little he did understand, and yet unable to go home until he should hear more; and the Major hardly less horrified, in the midst of his relief.  “But where’s Belamour!” he cried, “Your uncle, I mean.”

“Where?” said Sir Amyas.  “They said he was gone out.”

“So they told me!  And see here!”

Major Delavie produced Lady Belamour’s note.

“A blind!” cried Sir Amyas, turning away under a strange stroke of pain and sham.  “Oh! mother, mother!” and he dashed out of the room.

Poor Mr. Wayland sat down as one who could stand no longer.  “Of what do they suspect her?” he said hoarsely.