Margaret was not a gushing person, but she stooped and kissed the
cheerful little woman, and pressed her small hand affectionately.

'And everybody is glad when you come, my dear,' she said.

For Fräulein Ottilie was perhaps the only person in the company whom
Cordova really liked, and who did not jar dreadfully on her at one
time or another.

Another blast from the horn and they were all gone, leaving her and
Griggs standing by the rail on the upper promenade deck. The little
party gathered again on the pier when they had crossed the plank, and
made farewell signals to the two, and then disappeared. Unconsciously
Margaret gave a little sigh of relief, and Griggs noticed it, as he
noticed most things, but said nothing.

There was silence for a while, and the gangplank was still in place
when the horn blew a third time, longer than before.

'How very odd!' exclaimed Griggs, a moment after the sound had ceased.

'What is odd?' Margaret asked.

She saw that he was looking down, and her eyes followed his. A
square-shouldered man in mourning was walking up the plank in a
leisurely way, followed by a well-dressed English valet, who carried a
despatch-box in a leathern case.

'It's not possible!' Margaret whispered in great surprise.