“She had a fine sort o' lively look, carried her head up and shoulders back, and stepped as if she had steel springs in her heels.
“'Wal, Tom, what do ye say to her?' says Ben Bowdin.
“'I don't say nothin',' says Tom, and he lit his pipe; 'tain't my busness,' says he.
“'Wal, what do you think?' says Ben. Tom gin a hist to his trousers.
“'My thoughts is my own,' says he; 'and I calculate to keep 'em to myself,' says he. And then he jest walked to the side of the vessel, and watched the woman a gettin' ashore. There was a queer kind o' look in Tom's eye.
“Wal, the cap'n he was drefful sort o' oneasy arter she was gone. He had a long talk in the cabin with Mr. More, the fust officer; and there was a sort o' stir aboard as if somethin' was a goin' to happen, we couldn't jest say what it was.
“Sometimes it seems as if, when things is goin' to happen, a body kind o' feels 'em comin' in the air. We boys was all that way: o' course we didn't know nothin' 'bout what the woman wanted, or what she come for, or whether she was comin' agin; 'n fact, we didn't know nothin' about it, and yet we sort o' expected suthin' to come o' it; and suthin' did come, sure enough.
“Come on night, jest at dusk, we see a boat comin' alongside; and there, sure enough, was the lady in it.
“'There, she's comin' agin,' says I to Tom Tooth-acre.
“'Yes, and brought her baggage with her,' says Tom; and he p'inted down to a long, narrow pine box that was in the boat beside her.