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Updated: June 4, 2025
I find it quite impossible to conceive any deity or presiding genius of the universe who could be guilty of such a colossally useless tragedy as human life would be under those circumstances." "I can't see it, my dear Marmion," said Brenda's father a trifle gruffly, for he had not yet quite recovered from the disquieting experiences of the afternoon.
Were they deceiving, or trying very hard, indeed, to deceive themselves into the belief that the whole affair was nothing but a prank of Brenda's? I saw that my casual suggestion had a general air of likelihood, but if I had been in their place, I should have demanded evidence before I drew much consolation from so unsupported a conclusion. I joined young Turnbull.
The Brenda's cargo was a very combustible one, and in spite of the streams of water poured into the hold it was soon evident that the ship was doomed. Smoke began to ooze up between the planks everywhere, and the rising gale soon fanned the smouldering fire to flames that began to break out here and there, telling the dreadful truth too plainly for anyone to hide.
Here, in this Sunday morning breakfast-room, I was able for the first time to appreciate the tragedy in its proper relation to the facts of life. I saw that Brenda's rash impulsiveness might impose a quite horrible punishment on her too-devoted father. I turned away towards one of the window-seats.
The same night I hinted something of my appreciation of the dramatic quality of the stir at the Hall door to Frank Jervaise, Brenda's brother, and he, quite obviously, had altogether missed that aspect of the affair. He scowled with that forensic, bullying air he is so successfully practising at the Junior Bar, as he said, "I suppose you realise just what this may mean, to all of us?"
All that part of me with which I have any sort of real friendship, wanted quite definitely to stay outside. That would have been the tactful thing to do. There was no reason why I should intrude further on the mystery of Brenda's disappearance; and as a matter of fact I was no longer very keenly interested in that brilliant and fascinating young woman's affairs.
It would appear so certain to him that she could never find happiness in a marriage with Arthur Banks. And with that thought a suspicion of my late companion of the hill-top leapt into my mind. He had hinted at some influence or "pull" over Brenda's father that might perhaps be used in a last emergency, although the use of it implied the taking of a slightly dishonourable advantage.
The San Martino young ladies and the Countess Brenda's daughter kept trying to find a way to steal Carminatti for their group; but he always went back to the Maltese, doubtless because her conversation was more diverting and spicy.
The question was whispered, and he replied in a whisper: "Yes; do you think I have any chance?" A cohort of wild cats would not have torn Brenda's secret out of her friend's soul, and so she replied in a tone that was almost judicious in its evenness: "That, my friend, is a question that you can only get answered by asking another and you must ask her, not me."
"I can see by your face the sort of thing they've been saying to you at the Hall, so I suppose we'd better have the whole story on the carpet over supper. Father's been asking already what Brenda's here for." Anne showed me up to my room as soon as we entered the house, but her manner was that of the hostess to a strange guest. She was polite, formal, and, I thought, a trifle nervous.
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