ne side so as to free her
right arm, and fumbling in her companion's pocket found and extracted
the flask.

"Meantime, if you have no care for yourself, think of _him_, and be
careful for _his_ sake. What is the use of talking of love, if you
won't do even that for his sake? Be sensible for yourself as well as
for other people!"

"Mr Dick, your common-sense is invaluable!" Mrs Mannering drank,
smacked her lips, and grunted with satisfaction. "That's good! That's
better. I needed that." Then after a momentary pause. "Remember
though, _if I do_ come through, your work is to forget. No bringing up
of deathbed confidences! ... Anything in the same line that I can do
for yourself?"

"No," answered Katrine shortly. If the end came, Martin and Grizel
could console each other without help from her. And their figures were
misty. Even Jackey himself counted for more at this moment, embodying
as he did a great potential possibility of life. As for Jim Blair--ah!
let Jim hug his false dreams: let him never awake!

The hours dragged on. The children slept; some of the women slept also,
worn out by their fears. Katrine's cramped arms still held their
burden, but Nancy Mannering had turned herself round in her seat,
presenting her broad back as a support.

"Let yourself go, my dear; lean your weight on me. Nothing like a
support to your back. I was at the opera just before I sailed--six
shillings' worth of gallery, and never a rail at the back. Leaned back
against a young lad's knees, and he wriggled in seventeen fits.
Prudery, eh? Or perhaps I was too old. Well! Well!"

The voice had its old jaunty tone, but the language in which she spoke
was unintelligible. _Opera_! Katrine shrank at the sound. Face to
face with death, the trivial happenings of life retreated to an
illimitable distance. Was it possible that one had ever cared for such
baubles--had counted them among the goods of life!

At the stern of the boat a woman was praying aloud, while those around
joined in with tears and sobs. Katrine roused herself to listen, and
caught fervid confessions of sin and wrong-doing. Her thoughts turned
inward; she also ought to pray, to make confession. Drearily she asked
herself what she had done, and failed to discover a tangible offence.
Honestly she had endeavoured; honestly she had refrained. Looking back
over her life she could find no shrinking from duty, no unfair dealing,
no violation of a law.