“I did so,” answered Adam, curtly.
“What has become of the child, then?” asked Mr Gaffin, looking round the room as if in search of her. The visitor was Miles Gaffin, the miller of Hurlston, as he was generally called.
“She has gone out for a walk,” said the dame, coming up near her husband on hearing the subject of the conversation.
“You will find the maintenance of a child in addition to your own somewhat burdensome in these hard times,” observed the miller.
“We can judge better than our neighbours whether the burden is more than we can bear,” answered the dame; “so you see, Mr Gaffin, that need not make any one uneasy on our account.”
“Very likely, my good woman, and all very well at present; but the day will come when she will require schooling and clothing, and I suppose you had not time to bring much property belonging to her on shore, Adam Halliburt?” said Gaffin, in an inquiring tone.
“No, Miles Gaffin, I had less time to bring anything away than those who visited the wreck before me,” he answered, fixing his eyes on the visitor, who met his glance unmoved.
“What! did any one else get on board the wreck, do you think?”
“I am sure of it; and whoever they were, they were heartless villains to leave a little child to perish when they might have saved her.”
“Perhaps if people did visit the wreck they were not aware that any human being remained on board,” said Gaffin. “Did you see any of the crew? No one has heard of them, I understand.”