To her grief, she found no one on the river's brim. He whom she sought was half-way across, his conveyance the only wherry in sight, apparently. Having passed beyond the houses, Rebecca now folded her umbrella and looked carefully about her. To her great relief, she caught sight of a man's figure recumbent on a stone bench near at hand. A pair of oars lay by him and betrayed his vocation. She stepped promptly to his side and prodded him with her umbrella. "Here, mister!" she cried. "Wake up, please. What do you charge for ferryin' folks across the river?" The waterman sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then, without looking at his fare, he led the way to his boat without reply. He was chary of words, and after all, did not all the world know what to pay for conveyance to Southwark? Rebecca gazed after him for a moment and then, shaking her head pityingly, she murmured: "Tut--tut! Deef an' dumb, poor man! Dear, dear!" To hesitate was to lose all hope of overtaking the obstinate Copernicus. So, first pointing vigorously after the retreating boat with closed umbrella, and with many winks and nods which she supposed supplied full meaning to her gestures, she stepped into the wherry, and the two at once glided out on the placid bosom of the Thames. Far different was the spectacle that greeted her then from that which may now be witnessed near London Bridge. In those days that bridge was alone visible, not far to the East, and the tide that moves now so darkly between stone embankments beneath a myriad of grimy steamers, then flowed brightly between low banks and wooden wharves, bearing a gliding fleet of sailing-vessels. To the south were the fields and woods of the open country, save where loomed the low frame houses and the green-stained wharves of Southwark village. Behind Rebecca was a vast huddle of frame buildings, none higher than three stories, sharp of gable overhanging narrow streets, while here a tower and there a steeple stood sentinel over the common herd. To the east the four great stone cylinders of the Tower, frowning over the moving world at their feet, loomed grimly then as now. Rebecca had fixed her eyes at first with a fascinated stare on this mighty mass of building, penetrated by a chill of fear, although ignorant of its tragic significance. Turning after a minute or two from contemplation of that gloomy monument of tyrannical power, she gazed eagerly forward again, bent upon keeping sight of the man she was pursuing. He and his boat had disappeared, but her disappointment was at once lost in admiring stupefaction as she gazed upon a magnificent craft bearing across the bows of her boat and coming from the direction of Westminster. The hull, painted white, was ornamented with a bold arabesque of gilding which seemed to flow naturally in graceful lines from the garment of a golden image of Victory mounted high on the towering prow.