“Papa went straight to the inn with the dog-cart, and we only walked down the High-street. It is a dreary day.”
“And we’ll need to go to the inn and wait for him. For he said nothing of coming here,” said May.
“But it’s likely he’ll come for all that. He maistly ay looks in. It’s a pity he came out on sic a day, and him no weel. But I suppose he had to come. The ‘John Seaton’ sails the day,” said their aunt.
The sisters gave a sudden involuntary glance at each other. May reddened and laughed a little. Her sister grew pale. Their aunt looked from one to the other, thinking her own thoughts, but she did not let this appear.
“She mayna sail the day. They have lost some of their men, it is said, and that may hinder them.”
“And the wind and the waves are fearsome,” said the elder sister with a shiver.
“Ay, but the wind is in the richt airt. That wouldna hinder them,” said her aunt; and then she added in a little.
“Willie Calderwood goes as her first mate. That’s a rise for him. I hope he may show discretion. He’s no’ an ill laddie.”
“And he’s on a fair way to be a captain now,” said May. “So he told me—in awhile.”
“Ay, in a while,” said her aunt dryly. “But he has a long and dangerous voyage before him, and it’s no’ likely that all who sail awa’ the day will ever come hame again.”