"Oh, yes," said Sara, undoing the corner of her pocket-handkerchief, "how much is it?" and she held out a half-sovereign.
"Eight shillings—you pay in there," and he pointed to a red painted shed, "but look you here, little woman, that big pocket doesn't suit such a place as Cardiff, 'tis too easily got at; tie your money up tight and put it inside the breast of your gown."
"Yes," said Sara, obeying, "and thank you."
"Look alive, then, and I will take you on board."
Sara found a seat near the prow of the ship.
"We'll have to tie a few weights to you by and by, I'm thinking, or you'll be blown away," said the captain, as he kindly arranged some boxes and baskets so as to shelter her a little from the strong March wind.
"Am I the only passenger?"
"Yes. 'Tis mostly goods we carry, but sometimes we have a stray passenger. And where would you be going now so far from Garthowen Moor in your old age?"
Welsh curiosity is a quantity that has to be taken into account.
"I am going to Cardiff."