Lawrence was fuming. How was he going to bear any delays? It was as if the very air he breathed were poisoning him until he could leave America behind him. He had a fancy that if America were only far away, there would be no clouds over his sky. "What's that?" hurriedly asked Prudence, interrupting the man, who was again saying that "it couldn't be done, nohow." A tug was coming puffing and panting along, a little thing, dirty and reeling in a reckless way over the water, with three men in it, all of them, by the light of their lantern, gripping pipes between their teeth. "Hullo!" shouted Lawrence, leaning forward. "Fifty dollars if you'll take two passengers up to Boston to-night." "Hey?" Steam was shut off, and the two crafts came alongside each other. Lawrence repeated his offer. "Why, there's a woman!" was the response. "We can't take no woman; no 'commydations, no nothin'." He replaced his pipe in his mouth and then said, "I don't s'pose she could stand it." "I sha'n't mind," said Prudence, quickly. "Rodney, we'll go aboard." As she rose, a little black shape, forlorn and draggled, came fluttering from somewhere in the rowboat and alighted on the girl's shoulder. Her first impulse was to push the crow from its resting-place, but she restrained that impulse, and the bird maintained its position when she stepped into the tug, for she assumed that the master of it would take them to Boston. So in ten minutes from the time they had been picked up the two were steaming towards the city. One of the men had brought forward an old coat, which he offered to Lawrence, suggesting that he "wrap it around his wife." Prudence appeared not to hear the words, but she drew the garment closely about her and tried not to shiver. Lawrence sat near her; he put his arm about her and held her to him. Often he turned and looked down at her face, upon which the lamp shone. At those moments he told himself that he could not live without her; that he had been insane to think he could do so. The little craft rolled and spun over the bay, puffing, and reeking with odors of oil; sometimes sliding down into black water as it came upon the wash of a big vessel; but always it held on its way, and in an hour the lights of Boston began to show plainly, as the craft moved in and out among the shipping in the harbor. "I wish that crow had not come," exclaimed Lawrence once, when a hoarse murmur from behind Prudence came to his ear. Prudence smiled rallyingly. "Are you going to be superstitious?" she asked. "No; but that crow is a link with Savin Hill. I want to forget that I was ever there." The girl made a movement nearer her lover.