Once he broke off in what he was saying to look at the land; he sighed deeply, yet, forcing a smile, said to Mrs. Burke:
'That parting should never be a sad one which promises a happy meeting, at the cost of no more than patience.'
'Truly indeed not,' said Mrs. Burke cheerily.
'It is the meeting! it is the meeting! promise that, and what is the leave-taking?' he exclaimed, and was all on a sudden too moved to speak: he faintly bowed, and went to the ship's side and looked at the shore.
We did not long remain on deck. I found the wind cold, my head slightly ached; I was weary with the exhaustion which follows upon fretting. Mrs. Burke went with me to my cabin, and we spent a long while in talking, recalling old memories, and most of the time she was cheerfully busy in seeing that my things were in their place and that I wanted for nothing.
The night had drawn down dark over the ship when we passed from my berth into the state cabin. It was about seven o'clock. Supper was ready. The table was bright with damask and silver and flowers; under the skylight the large globe lamp glowed steadily, and filled the interior with the soft radiance of sperm oil. I heard some men singing out on deck and the noise of ropes flung down upon the planks. The sound was strange and put a sort of wildness into this interior, despite its fifty civilising details of furniture.
A young sandy-haired youth, long and lank, in a camlet jacket, stood at the foot of the companion-steps, and swung a bell with evident delight in the noise he made. Mr. Owen started up from a locker in the corner of the cabin on seeing us, and exclaimed:
'There is a brave wind blowing. Captain Burke hopes to be off Deal by midnight.'