"For others?"
"No, for a canal-boat."
"This country may be flat," thought Tristram; "but decidedly the travelling is not monotonous."
As he drew near the lantern, he saw indeed that they were on the edge of a canal, wherein lay a long black barge, with a boy on horseback waiting on the tow-path, a little ahead of it. On the barge's deck by the tiller an immensely fat boatman leant and smoked his pipe, which he withdrew placidly from his lips as Captain Salt gave the password to the man with the lantern and handed over the smoking horses.
"Modena!"
The fat man spat, stood upright and prepared for business as the passengers stumbled on board. Not a word more was spoken until Tristram found himself in a long, low cabin divided into two parts by a deal partition. By the light of a swinging lamp he saw that a bench ran along the after-compartment, and asked if he might stretch himself out to sleep.
"By all means," said his father. "I was going to propose it myself. We shall travel without halting till morning."
"Then 'good night.'"
"You appear in a hurry."
"It seems to me that it's my turn."