I was conscious of some disappointment, I could not say why. But
neither of the women filled the outline of the shadowy picture my fancy
had drawn of the Unknown. Neither gave impression of the force and
decision with which my fancy had endowed the woman who had challenged
the resources and defied the vengeance of the Wolf. So much I took to
my thoughts in the flash of an eye as they approached. It was to the
younger that I turned as the more likely to have the spirit of contest,
but it was the older who spoke.
"Here is your charge, Mr. Wilton," she said in a low, agitated voice.
As she spoke, I felt the faint suggestion of the peculiar perfume that
had greeted me from the brief letters of the Unknown.
"I am ready for orders," I said with a bow.
It was apparently a mere business matter between us. I had fancied
somehow that there had been a bond of friendship, as much as of
financial interest, between Henry Wilton and his employer, and felt the
sense of disappointment once more.
"Your orders are in this envelope," said the Unknown, hurriedly
thrusting a paper into my hand. "Drive for the boat, and read them on
the way. You have no time to lose."
The younger woman placed the child in the hack.
"Climb in, Wainwright," said I, eying the youngster unfavorably. "Will
he travel with us, ma'am? He's rather young."
"He'll go all right," said the elder woman with some agitation. "He
knows that he must. But treat him carefully.
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