What _is_ the
matter? What has she to do with your trouble?'
Wentworth paced up and down the narrow limits of the state-room as if he
were caged. He smote his hand against his thigh, while Kenyon looked at
him in wonder.
'I don't know how I can tell you, John,' he said. 'I must, of course; but
I don't know how I can.'
'Come on deck with me.'
'Never.'
'Come out, I say, into the fresh air. It is stuffy here, and, besides,
there is more danger of being overheard in the state-room than on deck.
Come along, old fellow.'
He caught his companion by the arm, and partly dragged him out of the
room, closing the door behind him.
'Pull yourself together,' he said. 'A little fresh air will do you good.'
They made their way to the deck, and, linking arms, walked up and down.
For a long time Wentworth said nothing, and Kenyon had the tact to hold
his peace. Suddenly Wentworth noticed that they were pacing back and
forth in front of Miss Brewster, so he drew his friend away to another
part of the ship. After a few turns up and down, he said:
'You remember Rivers, of course.'
'Distinctly.'
'He was employed on that vile sheet, the _New York Argus_.'
'I suppose it is a vile sheet. I don't remember ever seeing it. Yes, I
know he was connected with that paper. What then? What has Miss Brewster
to do with Rivers?'
'She is one of the _Argus_ staff, too.'
'George Wentworth, you don't mean to tell me that!'
'I do.
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