“They ought to be.”
“True, but we have to consider facts. Won’t you go down-stairs and drink a glass of beer?”
“No, thank you.”
“Oh, I forgot that you were a Sunday school boy. Well, ta, ta! I’ll see you again.”
There was something peculiar about the young man. Though it was a warm day he wore an ulster, which he never took off. Then he carried round his portmanteau with him all the time.
During the next two or three hours Bernard saw him several times.
There was something else also that drew his attention to the young man. He scanned his fellow passengers attentively, rather as if he was afraid of meeting some objectionable person. He seemed very restless also. He would seldom stay more than fifteen minutes in one spot.
Bernard had asked him his destination, but he evaded a straightforward reply.
“I am going wherever the boat does,” he said, with a smile. “How is it with you?”
“I suppose I shall land in New York.”