The men were hauling the boat up to the davits, the yacht was already
heading off from the land, when Turlington startled everybody by one
peremptory word--"Stop!"
He had thrust all his letters but one into the pocket of his sailing
jacket, without reading them. The one letter which he had opened he held
in his closed hand. Rage was in his staring eyes, consternation was on
his pale lips.
"Lower the boat!" he shouted; "I must get to London to-night." He
stopped Sir Joseph, approaching him with opened mouth. "There's no time
for questions and answers. I must get back." He swung himself over the
side of the yacht, and addressed the sailing-master from the boat. "Save
the tide if you can; if you can't, put them ashore to-morrow at Minehead
or Watchet--wherever they like." He beckoned to Sir Joseph to lean over
the bulwark, and hear something he had to say in private. "Remember what
I told you about Launcelot Linzie!" he whispered fiercely. His parting
look was for Natalie. He spoke to her with a strong constraint on
himself, as gently as he could.
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