I.
Who could she be—the little stranger asleep in the cabin?
Nobody could tell.
She must have come aboard unnoticed, hours ago, at the French port where the vessel had been lying for repairs. Had she wandered away from her home, and innocently lain down here to rest? In that home there would be grief, and anxiety, and long waiting, or ever she would return; for the ship was now many leagues out at sea, and the child had just been discovered.
The sound of voices talking the matter over wakened the little girl, and she shrank timidly from all the eyes fixed inquiringly upon her. So the captain sent every one away, and sat down by her, and in her own language questioned:
“How came you here, little one?”
“Is not this, then, the ship which goes to America? There was a man in the street who told me it should go to America. Is it, then, a mistake?”
“No, not a mistake. And you wish to go to America?”
“Oui, monsieur. I go to Julien.”