“No, madam,” said I, “you shall go with us to the ship. Come.” And I gallantly picked up her two bundles and restored them to her fulsome arms.
By this time Monsieur Figaro was looking over Mr. Hawes’s shoulder at the door, and I fancied I saw him smile. It may have been imagination.
“Come, madam,” said I. “we are going down to hire a boat immediately. Will you go with us?”
“Och! Indade I wull!”
She now rose—being very little taller standing than when sitting—dropping all her bundles but one.
I picked up all but one.
“Come, let us go.”
It was now fully dark.
Somewhat to my chagrin, this charming and confiding creature grasped my gallant arm, as a support; and we all started for the beach.
With the care of two hundred and ten unsteady pounds on my arm, and I walking on a frail crutch, I confess that I experienced a difficulty in traveling to the beach which I did not acknowledge at the time.