“Not a bit of it,” cried the admiral.  “You make your mind easy, my dear.  If he’s above ground, we shall find him out, you may depend upon it.  Come along master Henry, you and I will consider what had best be done in this uncommonly ugly matter.”

Henry and George followed the admiral from the breakfast-room, leaving Marchdale there, who looked serious and full of melancholy thought.

It was quite clear that he considered Flora had spoken from the generous warmth of her affection as regarded Charles Holland, and not from the convictions which reason would have enforced her to feel.

When he was now alone with her and Mrs. Bannerworth, he spoke in a feeling and affectionate tone regarding the painful and inexplicable events which had transpired.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

MR. MARCHDALE’S EXCULPATION OF HIMSELF.—­THE SEARCH THROUGH THE GARDENS.—­THE SPOT OF THE DEADLY STRUGGLE.—­THE MYSTERIOUS PAPER.

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It was, perhaps, very natural that, with her feelings towards Charles Holland, Flora should shrink from every one who seemed to be of a directly contrary impression, and when Mr. Marchdale now spoke, she showed but little inclination to hear what he had to say in explanation.

The genuine and unaffected manner, however, in which he spoke, could not but have its effect upon her, and she found herself compelled to listen, as well as, to a great extent, approve of the sentiments that fell from his lips.

“Flora,” he said, “I beg that you will here, in the presence of your mother, give me a patient hearing.  You fancy that, because I cannot join so glibly as the admiral in believing that these letters are forgeries, I must be your enemy.”

“Those letters,” said Flora, “were not written by Charles Holland.”

“That is your opinion.”

“It is more than an opinion.  He could not write them.”

“Well, then, of course, if I felt inclined, which Heaven alone knows I do not, I could not hope successfully to argue against such a conviction.  But I do not wish to do so.  All I want to impress upon you is, that I am not to be blamed for doubting his innocence; and, at the same time, I wish to assure you that no one in this house would feel more exquisite satisfaction than I in seeing it established.”

“I thank you for so much,” said Flora; “but as, to my mind, his innocence has never been doubted, it needs to me no establishing.”

“Very good.  You believe these letters forgeries?”

“I do.”

“And that the disappearance of Charles Holland is enforced, and not of his own free will?”

“I do.”

“Then you may rely upon my unremitting exertions night and day to find him and any suggestion you can make, which is likely to aid in the search, shall, I pledge myself, be fully carried out.”

“I thank you, Mr. Marchdale.”