Barbara walked the deck, overseeing the final arrangements, and issuing her orders. She paused at the starboard gangway to receive her passengers; but frowned slightly when she recognized Lord Dazzleright among them. But since the baron understood her reserve, he was not discomposed. “We are ready, and the tide is on the ebb; we only waited to ship you before weighing anchor,” she said cordially offering her hand to Lord Montressor, and bowing to the two other gentlemen. “So that I shall be obliged to take immediate leave of my friends and hurry back,” said Lord Dazzleright, who had not been addressed. “Yes, sir,” said Barbara, curtly turning away—“Willful! have the long-boat hauled up and made fast,” she commanded. Then to Lord Montressor and Sir Parke she said: “Gentlemen, accommodate yourselves, if you please. You know your quarters in my cabin, or if you prefer the lock there are pleasant seats in the stern.” They bowed and begged her not to incommode herself, as they would take care of themselves. As the men had now hauled up the long-boat and secured it to the davits, Lord Dazzleright began to blame his rashness, and wonder how he should get back to the shore. Barbara immediately relieved him of his dilemma by taking her speaking trumpet, going to the side of the vessel and hailing an idle wherry from the shore. “Boat ahoy!—come alongside to take a passenger off!” “Ay, ay, sir!” sung out the waterman, who began to ply his oars, swiftly propelling the boat in the direction of the vessel. While it was coming, poor Dazzleright shook hands with his friends, wishing them a good voyage, and then turned to look for Barbara. She had gone forward and was standing there to give orders. “All hands to the windlass! And you, Willful, to the wheel!” She was obeyed on the instant, and the men and boys stood waiting further commands. She paused, for Lord Dazzleright approached her—took her hand and said respectfully: “Good-bye, and a good voyage to you, Miss Brande! You are severe and even unjust to me; but you will know me better; I can wait for that; God bless you and yours!” “Heaven save you, sir! Good-bye!” said Barbara, in a somewhat softer voice, thinking that in this parting hour she could safely relax her rigor. He understood and refrained from presuming on this new kindness; but immediately went to the starboard gangway and descended into the boat, waiting there to receive him. “Up anchor!” shouted Barbara, as she saw the wherry push off. And while the men laid themselves to the windlass, and heaved with all their strength, Lord Dazzleright stood waving his hat from the receding boat. On reaching the shore, with a last wave of adieu, responded to from the decks of the vessel, Lord Dazzleright’s boat disappeared in the crowd at the docks. The anchor was soon up, the sails all set, and the Petrel stood gallantly out for the mouth of the river.