, oh, the endless breadth of that broad Pacific! How
time seemed to lag, as each day one rose in the morning, in the midst of
space; blue sky overhead; behind one, the hard horizon; in front of one,
the hard horizon; and nothing else visible: then steamed on all day, to
arrive at night, where?--why, in the midst of space; starry sky
overhead; behind one, the dim horizon; in front of one, the dim horizon;
and nothing else visible. The Nile was child's play to it.

[Illustration: IT WAS ENDLESSLY WEARISOME.]

Day after day we steamed, and night after night were still where we
began--in the centre of the sea, no farther from our starting-point, no
nearer to our goal, yet for ever steaming. It was endlessly wearisome;
who could say what might be happening meanwhile in England?

At last, after months, as it seemed, of this slow torture, we reached
Vancouver. There, in the raw new town, a telegram awaited me. 'Glad to
hear you are coming. Make all haste. You may be just in time to arrive
for the trial.'

Just in time! I would not waste a moment. I caught the first train on
the Canadian Pacific, and travelled straight through, day and night, to
Montreal and Quebec, without one hour's interval.

I cannot describe to you that journey across a continent I had never
before seen. It was endless and hopeless. I only know that we crawled up
the Rocky Mountains and the Selkirk Range, over spider-like viaducts,
with interminable effort, and that the prairies were just the broad
Pacific over again. They rolled on for ever. But we did reach Quebec--in
time we reached it; and we caught by an hour the first liner to
Liverpool.

At Prince's Landing-stage another telegram awaited me. 'Come on
at once. Case now proceeding. Harold is in court. We need your
evidence.--GEORGINA FAWLEY.'

I might still be in time to vindicate Harold's character.

At Euston, to my surprise, I was met not only by my dear cantankerous
old lady, but also by my friend, the magnificent Maharajah, dressed this
time in a frock-coat and silk hat of Bond Street glossiness.

'What has brought you to England?' I asked, astonished. 'The Jubilee?'

He smiled, and showed his two fine rows of white teeth. 'That,
nominally. In reality, the cricket season (I play for Berks). But most
of all, to see dear Tillington safe through this trouble.'

'He's a brick!' Lady Georgina cried with enthusiasm. 'A regular brick,
my dear Lois! His carriage is waiting outside to take you