The man said this wearily, as though he had seen too much of civilisation at some former time.
"But we shall not live in London, father?"
"For a time we must, perhaps. But I don't know yet what we shall do. The first thing will be to get ashore as soon as we can; and then, in a day or two, I will write to—to the gentleman I was telling you of; and if he will let us go and see him for a few days till we can find a home, well and good."
"And then you are to get well again, you know, father, and strong, and we will be happy—so happy again."
There was a great crushing and bustling on the main-deck. But I shall not stay to describe it, save only that great numbers of people were now coming on board. They were of all sorts; and among them, stepping on board from the gangway, was a bewildered-looking, well-dressed couple, whose fate seemed to be to get in everybody's way, while their immediate object was to get out of it.
"I never was so pushed about in all my life, John," said the lady. "And do you think we shall find them in this crowd?"
"We will try, Sarah," said the gentleman. "If there were anybody I could ask now, we should be all right, but I don't see—"
"Look, look, John!" cried Sarah in an excited, agitated tone. "Isn't that Walter up there? Him with the beard, I mean, and that beautiful girl! But, oh, how bad he seems!"
John looked as he was directed; and then the Tincrofts, squeezing their way, presently made good their footing on the quarter-deck. In another half minute, or less, Sarah's trembling hand was laid on the bearded man's arm.
"Walter!"