"Dear me, I'm late for prayer-meeting again. Snow will be looking for me."
I slipped out behind him, glad enough of Urkey's raw air after that close chamber of mysteries. I avoided the wharf-lane, however, more than a little scared by this sudden new aspect of the Minister, and got myself out to the shore street by Miah White's yard and the grocery porch, and there I found myself face to face with Mate Snow. That frightened me still more, for the light from Henny's Notions' window was shining oddly in his eyes.
"You're lookin' for the minister," I stammered, ducking my head.
He stopped and stared down at me, tapping a sole on the cobbles.
"What's this? What's this?"
"He—he says you'd be lookin' for 'im, an' I seen 'im to the Chinaman's an' he's comin' right there, honest he is, Mr. Snow."
"Oh! So? I'd be looking for him, would I?"
"Y—y—yessir."
I sank down on the grocery steps and studied my toes.
"He was there, though!" I protested in desperation, when we had been waiting in vain for a long quarter-hour. The dark monitor lifted his chin from his collar and looked at his watch.