“No, I do not,” he said; “but there’s a man coming over in yonder boat who does.”
He pointed over his shoulder at the sea as he spoke. Lavinia glanced quickly in the same direction.
“In yonder boat?” she repeated vaguely.
“I mean the London boat, which is on its way here, and will get in this evening,” he explained.
“Oh, of course,” said Lavinia, as if her wits had been wool-gathering.
The young man took out his watch and looked at it. Then he rose, lifted his hat, and, with a general good-morning, walked quickly down the pier.
Nancy was still at the side of the pier, looking down at the men. Captain Fennel put up his glasses and sat down beside Lavinia, his impassive face still as usual.
“I wonder who that man is?” he cried, watching the footsteps of the retreating stranger.
“Did you hear what he said?” asked Lavinia, dropping her voice.