"I know it well, Richard. I have not lived these three months with you
for nothing." His voice seemed to fail him. He drew near me and took my
hand. "But did you think I would require of you the sacrifice of leaving
London now?"

"It is my pleasure as well as my duty, captain."

"No," he said, "I am not like that. Yesterday I went to the city to see
a shipowner whose acquaintance I made when he was a master in the West
India trade. He has had some reason to know that I can handle a ship.
Never mind what. And he has given me the bark 'Betsy', whose former
master is lately dead of the small-pox. Richard, I sail to-morrow."


In Dorothy's coach to Whitehall Stairs, by the grim old palace out of
whose window Charles the Martyr had walked to his death. For Dorothy had
vowed it was her pleasure to see John Paul off, and who could stand in
her way? Surely not Mr. Marmaduke! and Mrs. Manners laughingly
acquiesced. Our spirits were such that we might have been some honest
mercer's apprentice and his sweetheart away for an outing.

"If we should take a wherry, Richard," said Dolly, "who would know of it?
I have longed to be in a wherry ever since I came to London."

The river was smiling as she tripped gayly down to the water, and the
red-coated watermen were smiling, too, and nudging one another. But
little cared we! Dolly in holiday humour stopped for naught. "Boat,
your honour! Boat, boat! To Rotherhithe--Redriff? Two and six apiece,
sir." For that intricate puzzle called human nature was solved out of