"As you wish--altogether as you wish," said Mr. Pitcher. "We force nobody. You also wish--" "Simply a receipt in full for Catherine Weise." "As you please," said Mr. Pitcher. While he with the ear-rings wrote out the receipt, and Lambert counted out the money on the table--it was the same that he had received an hour before from Mr. Brown--Mr. Pitcher and the captain grimaced sneeringly behind the back of the simpleton who was so easily limed, and never once looked at the famous account he was satisfying. "So," said Mr. Pitcher, "this is finished. Now we will--" "Drink to your happy journey," said the captain, as he reached for a rum-flask which stood near on the rack. "And to the _et cetera_, _et cetera_," cried Mr. Pitcher. "Good morning, Messrs.," said Lambert, gathering up the receipt, the half-finished contract and Catherine's passage-ticket, and hurrying out of the cabin as though the deck under him was afire. Brutal laughter rung behind him. He stood still a moment. His cheeks glowed. His heart beat furiously against his ribs. Every convulsed fiber of his body urged him to turn back and take vengeance on the mean scoundrels for their laughter. But he thought of the poor girl--how much more she had endured, and that he could do nothing better for her than to release her from such a hell, as soon as possible. The deck had now been somewhat cleared. The more fortunate ones, who needed not to fear the book in the hands of the man with the ear-rings, had already left the ship. Those who were obliged to stay sat and stood around in groups. Stupid indifference or uncertainty characterized their wan appearance. Curious gazers moved about among them, some of whom had come desirous of making contracts similar to the one which lay crushed in Lambert's coat-pocket. The heavy farmer, who had before made a bid on Catherine, was now speaking with another girl, who had adorned her rags with a couple of red ties, and laughed heartily at the broken German, and at the jokes of the man. They seemed to be already agreed on a bargain. Lambert hastened as fast as he could to the farther part of the deck, where he had already seen Catherine in the same place where he had left her. But as he came near her he stopped. It seemed to him that nothing had yet been accomplished--that all yet remained to be done. She now turned and saw him. A melancholy smile spread over her countenance. "Is it not true? Nobody can help me," said she. "Here is your receipt and your ticket," said Lambert. His strong, brown hands shook as he gave her the papers, and her thin white hands trembled as she took them. A burning red spread over her countenance. "Have you done this for me?" said she. Lambert did not reply, and was greatly agitated as she immediately bowed down, caught his hands and pressed them against her weeping face and lips.