itions which occurred to him, there flashed a horrible thought.
It was obvious that Isabel, determined to submit to her father before
the scandal of her flight was noised abroad, had conceived the
intention of returning to Lord Bakefield. But how would she put her
plan into execution? And Simon remembered that Isabel had left the
hotel in the most singular fashion, abruptly, on foot and accompanied
by a sailor carrying her bag. Now the landing-stage of the Newhaven
steamers was close to the hotel; and the night-boat would cast off her
moorings in an hour or two.

"Can she be thinking of crossing?" he muttered, shuddering as he
remembered the upheavals of the sea and the wreck of the _Queen Mary_.

He rushed towards the quay. Despite Isabel's expressed wish, he
intended to see her; and, if she resisted his love, he would at least
implore her to abandon the risk of an immediate crossing.

Directly he reached the quay, he perceived the funnels of the Newhaven
steamer behind the harbour railway-station. Isabel, without a doubt,
was there, in one of the cabins. There were a good many people about
the station and a great deal of piled-up luggage. Simon made for the
gangway, but was stopped by an official on duty:

"I have no ticket," said Simon. "I am looking for a lady who has gone
on board and who is crossing to-night."

"There are no passengers on board," said the official.

"Really? How's that?"

"The boat is not crossing. There have been orders from Paris. All
navigation is suspended."

"Ah!" said Simon Dubosc, with a start of relief. "Navigation is
suspended!"

"Yes; that is to say, as far as the line's concerned."

"What do you mean, the line?"

"Why, the company only troubles about its own boats. If others care to
put to sea, that is their look-out; we can't prevent them."

"But," said Simon, beginning to feel uneasy, "I suppose none has
ventured to sail just lately?"

"Yes, there was one, about an hour ago."

"Oh? Did you see her?"

"Yes, she was a yacht, belonging to an Englishman."

"Edward Rolleston, perhaps?" cried Simon, more or less at a venture.

"Yes, I believe it was, . . . Rolleston. Yes, yes, that's it: an
Englishmen who had just put his yacht in commission."

Simon suddenly realized the truth. Rolleston, who was staying at
Dieppe, happened to hear of Isabel's arrival, called at her hotel and,
at her request, gave orders to sail. Of course, he was the only man
capable of risking the