She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. Ben watched these manoeuvres with great interest, and strained every sinew in his frame to keep ahead of the other boats. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. , like to forget all about it—even their names. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him.
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