and began pacing the deck. Dr. Livingstone
came up before very long; but he seemed to have
made a rule of not obtruding himself on Ellinor
excepting when he could be of some use. After
a few words of common-place morning greeting,
he, too, began to walk backwards and forwards,
while Ellinor sat quietly watching the lovely
island receding fast from her view—a beautiful
vision never to be seen again by her mortal
eyes.

Suddenly there was a shock and stound all
over the vessel, her progress was stopped, and
a rocking vibration was felt everywhere. The
quarter-deck was filled with blasts of steam,
which obscured everything. Sick people came
rushing up out of their berths in strange
undress; the steerage passengers—a motley and
picturesque set of people, in many varieties of
gay costume—took refuge on the quarter-deck,
speaking loudly in all varieties of French and
Italian patois. Ellinor stood up in silent
wondering dismay. Was the Santa Lucia going
down on the great deep, and Dixon unaided in
his peril? Dr. Livingstone was by her side in
a moment. She could scarcely see him for the
vapour, nor hear him for the roar of the escaping
steam.

"Do not be unnecessarily frightened," he
repeated, a little louder. "Some accident has
occurred to the engines. I will go and make
instant inquiry, and come back to you as soon as
I can. Trust to me."

He came back to where she sat trembling.

"A part of the engine is broken, through the
carelessness of these Neapolitan engineers;
they say we must make for the nearest port—
return to Civita, in fact."

"But Elba is not many miles away," said
Ellinor. "If this steam were but away, you
could see it still."

"And if we were landed there we might stay
on the island for many days; no steamer
touches there; but if we return to Civita, we
shall be in time for the Sunday boat."

"Oh dear, dear!" said Ellinor. "To-day is
the second—Sunday will be the fourth—the
assizes begin on the seventh; how miserably
unfortunate!"

"Yes!" he said, "it is. And these things
always appear so doubly unfortunate when they
hinder our serving others! But it does not
follow that because the assizes begin at
Hellingford on the seventh, that Dixon's trial will
come on so soon. We may still get to
Marseilles on Monday evening; on by diligence to
Lyons; it will, it must, I fear be Thursday, at
the earliest, before we reach Paris—Thursday,
the eighth—and I suppose you know of some
exculpatory evidence that has to be hunted
up?"

He added this unwillingly; for he saw that
Ellinor was jealous of the secresy she had
hitherto maintained as to her reasons for believing
Dixon innocent; but he could not help thinking
that she, a gentle timid woman, unaccustomed
to action or business, would require some
of the assistance which he would have been so
thankful to give her; especially as this
untoward accident would increase the press of time in
which what was to be done would have to be
done.

But no. Ellinor scarcely replied to his half-
inquiry as to her reasons for hastening to
England. She yielded to all his directions, agreed
to his plans, but gave him none of her confidence,
and he had to submit to this exclusion from
sympathy in the exact causes of her anxiety.

Once more in the dreary sala, with the gaudy
painted ceiling, the bare dirty floor, the
innumerable rattling doors and windows! Ellinor
was submissive and patient in demeanour,
because so sick and despairing at heart. Her maid
was ten times as demonstrative of annoyance
and disgust; she who had no particular reason
for wanting to reach England, but who thought
it became her dignity to make as though she
had.

At length the weary time was over; and again
they sailed past Elba, and arrived at Marseilles.
Now Ellinor began to feel how much assistance
it was to her to have Dr. Livingstone for a
"courier," as he had several times called himself.

CHAPTER XIV.

"WHERE now?" said the canon, as they
approached the London-bridge station.

"To the Great Western," said she;
"Hellingford is on that line, I see. But, please, now
we must part."

"Then I may not go with you to Hellingford?
At any rate, you will allow me to go with
you to the railway station, and do my last office
as courier in getting you your ticket and placing
you in the carriage."

So they went together to the station, and
learnt that no train was leaving for Hellingford
for two hours. There was nothing for it but to
go to the hotel close by, and pass away the time
as best they could.

Ellinor called for her maid's accounts, and
dismissed her. Some refreshment that the
canon had ordered was eaten, and the table
cleared. He began walking up and down the
room, his arms folded, his eyes cast down.
Every now and then he looked at the clock on
the mantelpiece. When that showed that it
only wanted a quarter of an hour to the time
appointed for the train to start, he came up to
Ellinor, who sat leaning her head upon her
hand, her hand resting on the table.

"Miss Wilkins," he began—and there was
something peculiar in his tone which startled
Ellinor—"I am sure you will not scruple to
apply to me if in any possible way I can help
you in this sad trouble of yours?"

"No, indeed I won't!" said Ellinor, gratefully,
and putting out her hand as a token. He
took it, and held it; she went on, a little more
hastily than before: "You know you were so
good as to say you would go at once and see
Miss Monro, and tell her all you know, and that
I will write to her as soon as I can."

"May I not ask for one line?" he continued,
still holding her hand.