the interview.

"It won't do, Mr Rattlin. Don't you know that the fellow was put on
board with `CP' before his name? I anticipate what you are going to
say; but humanity is a more abstract thing than you are aware of, and
orders must be obeyed."

"But, zur," said Gubbins, who had again approached, "I can see that
feyther has forgi'en me, and he's the mon I ha' most wronged, arter all.
Besides, sistur wull break her heart if she doan't say `Good-bye,
Reuben'--if feyther has made it up, sure other folk mought be koind.
Oh, ay--but I've been a sad fellow!" And then he began to blubber with
fresh violence.

The officer was a little moved--he went to the gangway, hailed the boat,
and when she came near enough, he told the old farmer, kindly, that his
orders to prevent personal communication were strict; that any parcel or
letter should be handed up, but that he would do well not to let his
reprobate son have any money. During this short conference, Reuben had
placed himself within sight of his relatives, and the sacred words of
"My father," "My son," were, in spite of all orders, exchanged between
them. By this time the tide had turned, the wind had risen, and
precisely from the right quarter; so the hands were turned up, "up
anchor." The orders for the boat to keep off were now reiterated in a
manner more imperative; but it still hung about the ship, and after we
were making way, as long as the feeble attempts of the boatman could
keep his little craft near us, the poor old man and his daughter, with a
constancy of love that deserved a better object, hung upon our wake, he
standing up with his white hair blown about by the wind, to catch a last
glimpse of a son whom he was destined to see no more, and who would,
without doubt, as the Scripture beautifully and tenderly expresses it,
"bring down his grey hairs with sorrow to the grave."

Long, long after the stolid and sullen son had ceased, apparently, to
interest himself about the two that were struggling after us, in their
really frail boat, I watched from the taffrail the vain and loving
pursuit; indeed, until the darkness and the rapidly-increasing distance
shrouded it from my view, I did not leave my post of observation, and
the last I could discern of the mourners still showed me the old man
standing up, in the fixed attitude of grief, and the daughter with her
face bent down upon her knees. To the last, the boat's head was still
towards the ship--a touchi