"My name is Lowndes," he began at last. "Gordon Lowndes--you must have heard of me?"
"I--I don't remember it," stammered Harry at the second attempt.
"I stayed here several times while you were in Africa. I was here in February."
"Yes, now I remember your name: it was in the last letter I had."
He could say this calmly; and yet his lips could not frame the question whose answer would indeed be life or death.
"Two years ago I did not know your people," resumed the other. "But for two years I have been their most intimate friend."
"Tell me," at length whispered Harry: "is--either of them--dead?" And he awaited the worst with a sudden fortitude.
"Thank God!" the boy burst out, with the first break in his voice. "Nothing else matters--nothing--nothing! I made sure it was that! Can you swear that my father is all right?"
The other winced. "To the best of my knowledge," said he almost sharply.
"Yes, yes, I was with her three days ago."
"London! And I passed through London last night! You saw her, you say, three days ago, and she was all right then?"
"Then tell me the worst and let us have it over! I can see that we have lost our money--but that doesn't matter. Nothing matters if they are all right; won't you come in, sir, and tell me all?"
Harry did not know it, for in his deep emotion he had lost sight of self; but there was something infinitely touching in the way the young man stood aside and ushered his senior into the hall as though it were still his home. Mr. Lowndes shook his head at the unconscious air, and he entered slowly, with it bent. Harry shut the doors behind them, and they turned into the first room. It was the room with the empty bookshelves; and it still smelt of Harry's father's cheroots.
"You may wonder at my turning up like this," said Lowndes; "but for those fools at the shipping-office I should have met you at the docks. I undertook to do so, and to break the news to you there."
"Cable," said he; "that was a very simple matter. But if your shipping fellows hadn't sworn you'd be reported from the Lizard, in lots of time for me to get up from Scotland to meet you, I should never have run down there as I was induced to do on business the night before last. I should have let the business slide. As it was the telegram reached me last night in Glasgow, when I knew it was too late to keep you out of this. Still, I timed myself to get here five minutes before you, and should have done it if my train hadn't been forty minutes late. It--it must have been the devil's own quarter-of-an-hour for you, Ringrose! Have a drop of this before we go on; it'll do you good."