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Updated: August 17, 2024
Wilders, he fell from the deck of the Arcadia, and was, as it seemed, swallowed up in the all-devouring sea. He went under, it is true, but only for a moment, and, coming once more to the surface, by a few strong strokes swam to a drifting spar. To this he clung desperately, hoping against hope that he might yet be picked up from the yacht.
General Wilders shall know how well you executed his commands. But there! I have had enough of this; I wish to return to the yacht. Show me the shortest way back to the water side. Lead on; I will follow you." Sergeant McKay took a short cut down the steep steps, and soon regained the Waterport. There Mrs.
There was a delicious lobster-salad, a dish of cold cutlets and jelly, and a great heap of strawberries with cream. "Now get to business," said Mrs. Wilders, in a snarling, ill-tempered way; "let's have it out." "It's a pity you are out of humour this morning," observed Mr. Hobson, with a provoking forbearance. "I have come to find fault." Mrs.
Wilders, ma'am?" replied the sergeant, with a shake of the head. "No improvement?" "Far worse, ma'am, poor young chap! He died this morning, soon after daylight." "And my lord was his brother present?" "Lord Lydstone watched with him through the night, and was here by the bedside when he died." "Where is he now? Lord Lydstone, I mean." "He went back on board his yacht, ma'am, I think.
At any rate, it was sufficient to lure him on shore." "Of course there is something beneath all this: some intrigue, perhaps." "The old story, 'who is she? I suppose." "But I thought he was devoted to his cousin, the fair Mrs. Wilders." "Is she still in Constantinople?" "Yes, I think so. Still at Misseri's, I believe." "I wonder whether she has yet heard about this horrible affair.
"This letter, I mean, is from Mrs. Wilders; she has just arrived." "Here, in the Crimea, sir?" "Yes, she has come up in Lord Lydstone's yacht, and I want you to be so good as to go to her and break the news." He pointed sadly down the bed towards his shattered limb. "Of course, sir, as soon as I can order out a fresh horse I will go to Balaclava.
The other hand was on the table, fingering idly the various objects that strewed it. There were an inkstand, a pen-tray, a seal, a blotting-book or portfolio, and many other odds and ends. This blotting-book, with the same listless, aimless action, Mrs. Wilders presently turned to, and turned over the leaves one by one.
On the deck of the yacht, under an awning for the spring sun already beat down hotly at noon were the owner and his guests. Lord Lydstone, cigar in mouth, lounged lazily upon a heap of rugs and cushions at the feet of Mrs. Wilders, who took her ease luxuriantly in a comfortable cane arm-chair. Blanche Cyprienne, Countess of St. Clair, had changed little since her marriage.
Wilders reappeared, dressed to perfection in some cool light fabric, serene and smiling to everyone but Lord Lydstone. She was especially gracious to young Mr. Wilders, who had come off in the Governor's gig, and had been cordially welcomed by his brother. "Another cousin," said the general, introducing him.
Now, not detractin' anythin' from her merits, thar's another near hand somewhat of a smaller sort, though jest as much, an' a little bit more, to my likin'. Ye won't mind my declarin' things that way. Gardin o' Eeden thar air two Eves, one o' which, not countin' to be the mother o' all men, will yit, supposin' this chile to hev his way, be the mother o' a large family o' young Wilders."
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