“This is the first time you have ever said things of this sort to a girl, I should think,” she said at last. “Yes,” said Wilson simply. “You want practice,” said Miss Gething scornfully. “That’s just what I do want,” said Wilson eagerly. He was moving towards her again, but she checked him with a look. “But not with a girl who is half engaged to another man,” she said, regarding him with soft eyes; “it isn’t right.” “Does he know how it is?” inquired Wilson, referring, of course, to the absent Glover. Miss Gething nodded. “I think it’s quite right and proper, then,” said Wilson. “I don’t,” said Annis, holding out her hand. “I’ll say good-bye,” she said steadily. “I won’t see you again until my father is found. If Mr. Glover finds him I won’t see you at all. Good-bye.” The skipper took her hand, and marvelling at his pluck, drew her, resisting slightly, towards him again. Then he bent his head, and, with the assistance of Miss Gething, kissed the brim of her hat. Then she broke from him and ran lightly up the lane, pausing at the end to stop and wave her hand ere she disappeared. The skipper waved his in return, and glancing boldly at a horse which had witnessed all the proceedings from over the hedge, walked back to Northfleet to urge his dispirited crew to still further efforts. CHAPTER IX To the skipper’s surprise and disapproval Annis kept her word. To be sure she could not prevent him meeting her in the road when the schooner was at Northfleet, his attitude when she tried to, being one of wilful and deliberate defiance. She met this disobedience adeptly by taking a pupil home with her, and when even this was not sufficient added to the number. The day on which she appeared in the road with four small damsels was the last day the skipper accompanied her. He could only walk in front or behind; the conversation was severely technical, and the expression on the small girls’ faces precocious in the extreme. The search went on all the summer, the crew of the _Seamew_ causing much comment at the various ports by walking about as though they had lost something. They all got to wear a bereaved appearance after a time, which, in the case of the cook—who had risked some capital in the affair—was gradually converted to one of resignation. At the beginning of September they found themselves at Ironbridge, a small town on the East Coast, situated on the river Lebben. As usual, the skipper’s inquiries revealed nothing. Ironbridge was a small place, with absolutely nothing to conceal; but it was a fine day, and Henry, who disliked extremely the task of assisting to work out the cargo, obtained permission to go ashore to purchase a few small things for the cook and look round. He strolled along blithely, casting a glance over his shoulders at the dusty cloud which hung over the _Seamew_ as he went. It was virgin soil to him, and he thirsted for adventure.