“He must have met with an accident,” said the mate, politely. “I saw him to-night,” said the lady, tersely. “Once or twice he had mentioned Wapping in conversation, and then seemed to check himself. That was my clue. I’ve been round this dismal heathenish place for a fortnight. To-night I saw him; he came on this wharf, _and he has not gone off_.... It’s my belief he’s in that room.” Before the mate could reply the hoarse voice of the watchman came down the companion-way. “Ha’ past eleven, sir; tide’s just on the turn.” “Aye, aye,” said the mate. He turned imploringly to the visitor. “Would you do me the favour just to step on deck a minute?” “What for?” enquired the visitor, shortly. “Because I want to get up,” said the mate. “I sha’n’t move,” said the lady. “But I’ve got to get up, I tell you,” said the mate; “we’re getting under way in ten minutes.” “And what might that be?” asked the lady. “Why, we make a start. You’d better go ashore unless you want to be carried off.” “I sha’n’t move,” repeated the visitor. “Well, I’m sorry to be rude,” said the mate. “George.” “Sir,” said the watchman from above. “Bring down a couple o’ men and take this lady ashore,” said the mate sternly. “I’ll _send_ a couple down, sir,” said the watchman, and moved off to make a selection. “I shall scream ‘murder and thieves,’” said the lady, her eyes gleaming. “I’ll bring the police up and cause a scandal. Then perhaps I shall see into that room.” In the face of determination like this the mate’s courage gave way, and in a voice of much anxiety he called upon his captain for instruction. “+Cast off+,” bellowed the mighty voice. “+If your sweetheart won’t go ashore she must come, too. You must pay her passage.+” “Well, of all the damned impudence,” muttered the incensed mate. “Well, if you’re bent on coming,” he said, hotly, to the visitor, “just go on deck while I dress.” The lady hesitated a moment and then withdrew. On deck the men eyed her curiously, but made no attempt to interfere with her, and in a couple of minutes the mate came running up to take charge. “Where are we going?” enquired the lady with a trace of anxiety in her voice. “France,” said Fraser, turning away. The visitor looked nervously round. At the adjoining wharf a sailing barge was also getting under way, and a large steamer was slowly turning in the middle of the river. She took a pace or two towards the side. “Cast off,” said Fraser, impatiently, to the watchman. “Wait a minute,” said the visitor, hastily, “I want to think.” “Cast off,” repeated the mate. The watchman obeyed, and the schooner’s side moved slowly from the wharf. At the sight the visitor’s nerve forsook her, and with a frantic cry she ran to the side and, catching the watchman’s outstretched hand, sprang ashore. “Good-bye,” sang out the mate; “sorry you wouldn’t come to _France_ with us. The lady was afraid of the _foreigners_, George. If it had been _England_ she wouldn’t have minded.”