“Well, my lady, they might, and they might not. Of course it would depend partly upon the number of passengers, and the sea stock they had on board.”
“This is an emigrant ship,” Alice said.
“Well, miss,” the sailor said, turning round again to the sea, as if to assure himself that no change had taken place, “I should say yes; it’s a very light breeze, you see, and they will be a week or so coming round from the Downs, if it does not freshen, and they would be likely to put in here to fill up again with water before she takes her departure. I can’t say for sure, you see, miss,” he said, seeing how anxious his questioner was. “Some captains are more given to putting in here than others are. But I should say if this wind holds, it’s odds he comes in; and if it shifts to the south-west, which is likely enough, it makes a foul wind of it, and then he’s pretty sure to run in. When did she sail, miss?”
“She left Gravesend early on Tuesday morning.”
“Ay, and this is Friday. Well, miss, she is likely enough to be here on Monday or Tuesday, if the wind holds as at present.”
“And how are we to know if she comes in?” Alice asked.
“Well, miss, if you want to catch her directly she drops anchor, your best plan will be to go to the signal-station, and ask them to send a man down to your hotel directly she is sighted. Thank your honour, God bless you,” as Captain Bradshaw dropped a half-sovereign into his hand.
“Well, upon the whole, Alice, that is as good as we could have expected.”
“Yes, I think so, uncle; we have nothing to do but to wait.”
In the afternoon, Prescott arrived. Alice was looking from the window when the fly drew up, and she said to her uncle,—