Blanche and Sabina.
On parting from the pier most of the passengers forsook the upper deck, and went scattering to their state-rooms.
A few remained lingering above; among them the gentleman to whom belonged the golden-haired girl, and the servant with skin of kindred colour.
He did not stay, as one who takes a leaving look at his native land. It was evidently not his. In his own features, and those of the child held in his hand, there was an unmistakable expression of “Englishism,” as seen in its nobler type.
The coloured domestic, more like America, was still not of the “States.” Smaller and more delicate features, with a peculiar sparkle of the eye, told of a West Indian origin—a negress for her mother, with a white man, perhaps Frenchman or Spaniard, for her father.
Any doubts about the gentleman’s nationality would have been dispelled by listening to a brief dialogue that soon after occurred between him and a fourth personage who appeared upon the scene.
This last was a young fellow in dark coat and trousers, the coat having flap-pockets outside. The style betokened him a servant—made further manifest by the black leathern cockade upon his hat.
He had just come from below.
Stepping up to the gentleman, and giving the unmistakable salute, he pronounced his master’s name:
“Sir George!”