Oh, the pity of it.
West! Remember what I have already told you--that it is no fanciful or imaginary peril, but one which we have every reason to suppose to be most real.

It is, however, of such a nature that it can neither be averted nor can it profitably be expressed in words.

If all goes well, you will see us at Branksome on the sixth.
"With our fondest love to both of you, I am ever, my dear friends, your attached "MORDAUNT." This letter was a great relief to us as letting us know that the brother and sister were under no physical restraint, but our powerlessness and inability even to comprehend what the danger was which threatened those whom we had come to love better than ourselves was little short of maddening.
Fifty times a day we asked ourselves and asked each other from what possible quarter this peril was to be expected, but the more we thought of it the more hopeless did any solution appear.
In vain we combined our experiences and pieced together every word which had fallen from the lips of any inmate of Cloomber which might be supposed to bear directly or indirectly upon the subject.
At last, weary with fruitless speculation, we were fain to try to drive the matter from our thoughts, consoling ourselves with the reflection that in a few more days all restrictions would be removed, and we should be able to learn from our friends' own lips.
Those few intervening days, however, would, we feared, be dreary, long ones.

And so they would have been, had it not been for a new and most unexpected incident, which diverted our minds from our own troubles and gave them something fresh with which to occupy themselves..