With that, Mrs. Eliza's husband, who had behaved more like a machine than a man during the long interview, pulled briskly to shore.
It was dusk when they walked along the street where Mrs. Eliza lived; but Joshua saw Ellen standing at the door waiting for them. He hastened to her eagerly, and with his arm around her waist, drew her away from the little light that was left. She was trembling; but his strong arm supported her.
"So you are to be my little wife to-morrow?" he said in a voice of exceeding tenderness.
She clung closer to him, and hiding her face, although it was dark, answered him in the softest of soft whispers, "Yes, if you are satisfied that it shall be so."
"It will be for the best, darling," he whispered, embracing her.
How proud he was of her! and what a memorable night they passed with the Old Sailor! The best room in the house had been brightened up for them to have tea in; and after tea, Joshua and Ellen strolled by the waterside for an hour, which seemed about five minutes long, talking as lovers have talked since the Creation. Meanwhile, the Old Sailor stood at the door, smoking his pipe with infinite satisfaction at the thought of having set all matters straight. While he thus stood, a man approached with the evident intention of making an inquiry of him; but catching sight of the Old Sailor's face, the man uttered a hasty exclamation and abruptly crossed the road, making a pretence of being intoxicated. It was but a pretence, but it deceived the Old Sailor, who set it down in his mind that the man was a sailor on the spree. "Going to join the 'Merry Andrew' to-morrow, perhaps," he thought; "and fuddling himself, as most of 'em do the first and last nights ashore. A rare old swiller is Jack! Never knows when he has had enough. Must always take another drop."
The man's thoughts were of a different kind. When he had turned the corner of the street, he walked more leisurely, and drew such a breath as one draws when he has escaped a danger. His first muttered words were "He didn't see me;" his next, "What the devil brings him here?" That his mind was disturbed by the sight of the Old Sailor was evident from his manner; and it was evident also, by the wary looks he cast about him, that he was bent already on no idle mission and needed nothing fresh to occupy him. "A good job it was dark," he muttered, directing his steps to the waterside; "if he had seen me, he would have been sure to tell Marvel, and it might have given rise to suspicion. Where is that dog of a Lascar, and what the devil does he mean by keeping me waiting?" The words were scarcely uttered when his face grew deadly white, and an ugly twitching came about the corners of his lips at what he saw before him. It was merely a man and woman--evidently lovers--who were walking slowly along, in earnest conversation. He was about to follow them, when his arm was touched by a new-comer, in a sailor's dress.
"Here I am, master," said the new-comer.
"See there, you dog!" exclaimed Solomon Fewster, pointing to the lovers. "See there! What brings her here?"
The Lascar looked after them, shading his eyes with his hand, and shrugged his shoulders. "Joshua Marvel and Ellen Taylor!" he said, with a careless laugh. "Doing a little sweethearting on the sly. If you had the chance, you'd do the same yourself. See, they're turning back this way; let us get out of sight."