She kissed her parents “Good night,” and they were somewhat surprised to see tears in her blue eyes. Her box was hidden in the garden, so away she went. Straight for the rectory she bent her tiny footsteps. Maud was all by herself in the best room.
She did not stay long here, but left a letter, making Maud promise—“just for fun,” she said—not to open it till next afternoon.
Maud promised.
Then away went Teenie. It was dark when a little boat brought her alongside. She told the boatman not to wait, as a ship’s dinghy would bring her on shore. Some men had seen her come on board, but naturally imagined she brought a message for the captain, who, however, was on shore.
The saloon was all dark, so she had had no difficulty in stowing herself away.
But the storeroom was afterwards locked, and she passed a dreary time. Then thinking she was going to die, she began to sing her “death-bed hymn,” as she termed it, and was thus engaged when Pandoo came upon the scene.
. . . . . .
It was not until next evening that Maud opened the envelope. It contained a letter for Mr. Ch. Norton, and that was Teenie’s father.
Then putting on her cloak, Maud at once hurried away with it to the fisherman’s humble cottage.
It was quite a child’s letter, but the tears trickled down the poor man’s face as he read it to his wife and Maud.