Buxton's
attention, Edward was not forgotten.
He was soon among the sailors, talking away in a rather consequential
manner. He grew acquainted with the remainder of the cabin-passengers, at
least those who arrived before the final bustle began; and kept bringing
his sister such little pieces of news as he could collect.
"Maggie, they say we are likely to have a good start, and a fine moonlight
night." Away again he went.
"I say, Maggie, that's an uncommonly pretty girl come on board, with those
old people in black. Gone down into the cabin, now; I wish you would scrape
up an acquaintance with her, and give me a chance."
CHAPTER XI.
Maggie sat on deck, wrapped in her duffel-cloak; the old familiar cloak,
which had been her wrap in many a happy walk in the haunts near her
moorland home. The weather was not cold for the time of year, but still it
was chilly to any one that was stationary. But she wanted to look her last
on the shoals of English people, who crowded backward and forward, like
ants, on the pier. Happy people! who might stay among their loved ones. The
mocking demons gathered round her, as they gather round all who sacrifice
self, tempting. A crowd of suggestive doubts pressed upon her. "Was it
really necessary that she should go with Edward? Could she do him any real
good? Would he be in any way influenced by her?" Then the demon tried
another description of doubt.
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