"
Hawbury stopped, and sighed.
"I tell you what it is, Dacres," said he, "there never lived a nobler,
more generous, and at the same time a braver soul than Ethel Orne. She
never said a word about gratitude and all that, but there was a
certain quiet look of devotion about her that gives me a deuced queer
feeling now when I think of it all."
"And I dare say--But no matter."
"What?"
"Well, I was only going to remark that, under the circumstances, there
might have been a good deal of quiet devotion about you."
Hawbury made no reply, but sat silent for a time.
"Well, go on, man; don't keep me in suspense."
"Let me see--where was I? Oh! floating on the raft. Well, we floated
that way, as I said, for three days, and at the end of that time we
reached a settlement. Here we found a steamer, and went on further,
and finally reached Ottawa. Here she went to the house of a friend. I
called on her as soon as possible, and found her in fearful anxiety.
She had learned that her father had gone up with a Mr. Willoughby, and
neither had been heard from.
"Startled at this intelligence, I instituted a search myself. I could
not find out any thing, but only that there was good reason to believe
that both of the unhappy gentlemen had perished. On returning to the
house to call on Ethel, about a week after, I found that she had
received full confirmation of this dreadful intelligence, and had gone
to Montreal. It seems that Willoughby's wife was a relative of
Ethel's, and she had gone to stay with her.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77