being the first to announce good news to me; he has informed me of the arrival of this ship.”
“And it is not yours?”
“No, she is a Bordeaux vessel, La Gironde ; she comes from India also; but she is not mine.”
“Perhaps she has spoken to the Pharaon , and brings you some tidings of her?”
“Shall I tell you plainly one thing, sir? I dread almost as much to receive any tidings of my vessel as to remain in doubt. Uncertainty is still hope.” Then in a low voice Morrel added—“This delay is not natural. The Pharaon left Calcutta the 5th of February; she ought to have been here a month ago.”
“What is that?” said the Englishman. “What is the meaning of that noise?”
“Oh, my God!” cried Morrel, turning pale, “what is it?”
A loud noise was heard on the stairs of people moving hastily, and half-stifled sobs. Morrel rose and advanced to the door; but his strength failed him and he sank into a chair.
The two men remained opposite one another, Morrel trembling in every limb, the stranger gazing at him with an air of profound pity. The noise had ceased; but it seemed that Morrel expected something—something had occasioned the noise, and something must follow.
The stranger fancied he heard footsteps on the stairs; and that the footsteps, which were those of several persons, stopped at the door. A key was inserted in the lock of the first door, and the creaking of hinges was audible.