Anthony's eyes had already picked out the person referred to: an infirm old man who leaned his weight upon a stick, but whose head with its high-featured face was held up with the boldness of youth. There was a girl at his side; she was turned from Anthony and he could not see her face, but her figure and carriage were superb; the hand that held the old man's arm was slim and white and wonderful. There was something in her poise, in her movements, that said "Youth," "Beauty," as plainly as tongue could have said it; so, with his fancy instantly taken, Anthony worked his way down upon the wharf, and there, hands behind his back and with a carefully careless air, he waited. The skilful hands of the sailors made the schooner fast, the planks were run aboard, and the passengers and travelers were set ashore. There was a small din of carters as they fought for the chests, parcels, and bags--scuffle, flurry and dust for a moment; then all settled again, and they were gone. Craftily, Anthony bided his time; then, right to a hair's-breadth, he put out a hand and helped the old Frenchman ashore, for which he received a "Je vous remercie, monsieur," from the old man, and a glance, though a brief one, from what he thought the most splendid eyes he had ever seen. He stood near by while they talked with the only remaining carter. They were strangers in the city; they were going to the Half Moon; they had expected some one to meet them and were somewhat dismayed to find that no one had. During this, Anthony diligently scanned the river at the bend in the very closest manner, as though expecting a vessel in whose appearance he was gravely concerned to round it at any moment. A young man here flung himself up through the companionway of the schooner with the agility and sureness of an acrobat. He was a big young man and seemed very much excited; a glance showed him that all the porters and carters were gone, and he ripped out a string of curses, threw a heavy pair of saddle-bags ashore, and leaped after them. Paying no attention whatever to the old man and the girl, he said sharply to the man who was engaged with their effects: "Get those bags and drive me to the nearest tavern where there is fit food and drink." The carter was a settled, family sort of man, with a subdued look. "I'm sorry, sir," said he, "but I've already engaged to carry this lady and gentleman to the Half Moon." The young man was very big of chest and square of face; he had a curt manner, and an eye that was good-humored rather than otherwise; but it was plain that he was not the sort of person to permit himself to be inconvenienced by any foolish notion of precedence. He looked at the old man and then at the girl; and his laugh showed his fine teeth.