Richter's Message

"How did you get in?" she asked.

Richter smiled. "You have forgotten that Herr Kenwardine gave me a key."

"I didn't know he had," Clare answered. "But won't you sit down?"

He moved a chair to a spot where his white clothes were less conspicuous,
though Clare noted that he did so carelessly and not as if he wished to
hide himself. Then he put a small linen bag on the table.

"This is some money that belongs to Herr Kenwardine; you may find it
useful. It is not good to be without money in a foreign town."

Clare looked at him with alarm. He was fat and generally placid, but his
philosophical good humor was not so marked as usual.

"Then you have heard from my father?"

"Yes. I have a cablegram. It was sent in a roundabout way through other
people's hands and took some time to reach me. Herr Kenwardine left
Kingston last night."

"But there is no boat yet."

Richter nodded. "He is not coming to Santa Brigida. I do not think that
he will come back at all."

For a moment or two Clare felt unnerved, but she pulled herself together.
She realized now that she had long had a vague fear that something of
this kind would happen.

"Then where has he gone? Why didn't he write to me?" she asked.

"He has gone to Brazil and will, no doubt, write when he arrives. In the
meantime, you must wait and tell people he is away on business. This is
important. You have some money, and the house is yours for a month or
two."