"That is just possible."
"And she, and the wretch she called her husband, all are on their way to South America?"
"I hope so, I am sure."
"What did the captain say? How could he answer for stopping to take up the party in the night? Did he pretend to be ignorant of what they were about?"
"Yes, he assured us he was ignorant, and I should not wonder if he spoke the truth—French truth, perhaps; but I don't believe he suspected more than a little smuggling venture, or an un-actionable intrigue of some kind. He knew the man somewhat, and made a bargain to lay outside the harbor for a few hours, and pick them up if they came out before daylight. The man told him it was his wife and child, who had been detained in the country by the illness of the child, and that he would pay him fifty dollars, besides the passage money, if he'd wait for them. No doubt the captain suspected something, but, as I say, nothing so serious as the job they'd undertaken."
"The wretch! He ought to have had his ship brought back to port, and have been kept there for a month, at least, and lost his cargo, and been put to no end of loss and law. You were ridiculously weak, Mr. Andrews, to let him go, and worse than weak to let the woman go."
"Maybe so, Miss Varian, maybe so. It wouldn't be the first time, at any rate."
"To think of that horrid creature going off and doing what she chooses!"
"I'd rather think of her in South than in North America. And as to doing what she chooses—she'll do that, whichever continent she's on—for she is a woman."
"You should have shut her up in prison, and made that captain suffer all that the law could put upon him. You wouldn't appear against them because you are too lazy, Mr. Andrews, and that is the English of it. And so other people's children may be stolen, and other vessels go prowling around our shores, and this sort of thing be done with perfect impunity, Mr. Andrews, with perfect impunity."