The girls felt in their pockets in vain. Most of their substance had gone on postcards and popcorn, and all they could muster among them was sevenpence-halfpenny.
"I'm afraid we haven't enough money. We only expected to pay penny fares to the jetty."
Dora's voice trembled a little. She felt so upset, she scarcely knew what she was saying, and the others looked equally solemn and concerned. The purser rubbed his chin, as if in doubt.
"It's an awkward case, certainly," he said. "I can't think what they were doing at the pier-head to let you come on without tickets. This boat goes to Everston, you see, and stays the night there, so we can't take you back to Chetbourne. You'd best get off at Sandsend, and walk home along the shore. I'll make it all right with the captain about the fares."
Were ever four wretched girls in such a predicament? It was a judgment with a vengeance on their naughtiness. To be carried away by the steamer and set down at such a remote place as Sandsend seemed an appalling prospect, and they were quite aghast at the idea.
"Well, we have got ourselves into a scrape!" exclaimed Phœbe, as soon as the purser was out of earshot.
"I was so sure it was the ferry-boat!" sighed poor Dora. "I feel as if I were to blame for proposing it."
"It wasn't your fault more than anybody else's," said Myfanwy. "I suppose we ought to have stopped to ask."
"We were in such a hurry!"
"How far is Sandsend from Birkwood?" asked Aldred.