"Very likely he never found the Ballantynes at all," she argued. But he
might have sent her word. All that morning she had been expecting a
telephone message or a telegram or a note scribbled on board the steamer
and sent up the Khamballa Hill by a messenger. But not a token had come
from him and now of the boat which was carrying him to England there was
nothing left but the stain of its smoke upon the sky.

Mrs. Repton put her handkerchief in her pocket and was going about the
business of her house when the butler opened the door.

"I am not in--" Mrs. Repton began and cut short the sentence with a cry
of welcome and surprise, for close upon the heels of the servant Thresk
was standing.

"You!" she cried. "Oh!"

She felt her legs weakening under her and she sat down abruptly on a
chair.

"Thank Heaven it was there," she said. "I should have sat on the
floor if it hadn't been." She dismissed the butler and held out her
hand to Thresk. "Oh, my friend," she said, "there's your steamer on
its way to Aden."

Her voice rang with enthusiasm and admiration. Thresk only nodded his
head gloomily.

"I have missed it," he replied. "It's very unfortunate. I have clients
waiting for me in London."