'Not another word,' said the good woman, ignoring the girl's malicious aside. 'I am putting both of you out in the world, both you and Winefred. One is as much indebted as the other. Her I am taking to Bath, you I have disposed of at Beer. Well, good luck attend you, my boy; you have my best wishes――and luck will come to you if you are steady. That is my doctrine. Gee-up, Robin!' But he would not let go the cob. He held the rein whilst he renewed his thanks. Then the jolly woman became impatient and cracked her whip. 'Have done,' said she. 'You cannot thank me better than by remaining where you are and profiting by your position. Now, Jack, say good-bye to Winefred and wish her luck, as she wishes it for you.' Winefred looked at him without a word, and this paralysed his tongue. Mrs. Jose waited for a moment, but as neither spoke she drove on with an impatient lifting of the elbows. Jack looked after the trap, but Winefred did not turn her head to give him a parting salute and kindly look. 'She might have been more gracious,' he said, 'but one cannot gather figs off thistles. She hates me, moreover, for all the contradictions she has had to endure, and the sours she has been forced to swallow because of that nonsense about my father's savings.' He walked away, reached the ferry, and hailed Olver to take him across. Dench was profuse in his expressions of regret at losing the society of the young man. Jack said a word of civility in response. He disliked and mistrusted the man, and was glad to be rid of his company. Nevertheless, the fellow had been a comrade of his father, and Jack had lived with him since the death of his father, and he accordingly did feel some regret at parting with Olver, though it was a regret largely qualified with relief. 'Come, lad!' said the ferryman. 'Let us go to the Lion. We will have a glass to your good fortune.' Jack could not refuse. He shouldered his bundle and accompanied the elder man into the village of Seaton, and with him entered the public-house kept by Mrs. Warne. But when there, he was unable to talk, his heart was troubled, his mind engaged. He was thinking of the girl Winefred and of her ill-humour, rather than of his new start in life. Happily for him there were others in the house at their beer, and with them Dench fell into talk. Jack sipped at his glass, looking dreamily before him. 'This is a poor beginning,' said Dench, presently noticing how absent the lad was. 'It is not what the captain would have liked――ah! there was a man if you will. He'd have said, "You were not chipped off the old block, but whittled out of the soft wood of your mother." He would have had you take to a more stirring life and one connected with the salt water.' 'A man must take, in these times, whatsoever offers,' answered Jack. 'I have been sufficiently long out of work to take up any work with relish.' 'But you need not have been without a job,' said Dench, with a wink to his fellows at his table.