night Andrew Beal tackled a task
somewhat out of the common, for Alice saw him for ten minutes in the road
after closing time, and bade him be off to Dartmouth so quick as his legs
would carry him with a letter that she'd wrote to Masters. Andrew was to
get aboard _The Provider_ somehow, and see Ted, and bring his answer in
the morning by cock-light. Which things Andrew Beal did do, and before Fox
and his wife were stirring, Alice crept to Christie's door and slipped a
letter under it.

And a very clever letter it was.

_I hear they've locked you up and mean to starve you if you won't take
another man_ (wrote the sailor). _Well, keep quite calm and save yourself
all fear. People who break the rule of law and order and do such devilish
deeds as this must be treated to their own high-handed ways, my dear. I'll
call for you to-morrow at dusk, Christie, so be ready, and have your
things packed, for you'll say good-bye to 'Passage House' a few hours
after you get this letter. And if Alice Chick is allowed to see you, tell
her I'll not forget her goodness nor yet her man's. We'll have the weather
of 'em before nightfall. Cheer O!_

_Your loving,_
_Ted._

Well, that was better than breakfast, no doubt, for the hungry girl, and
when her uncle stormed up again, to know if she'd come to her senses and
would go over and see Bassett, she said she'd never left her senses, and
told him, very bravely, that there was a time coming when his Maker would
reckon with him and her aunt also.

He gnashed what teeth he'd got left at her, and told her that he'd break
her and make her howl for mercy afore she was many hours older. And then
he went down house and dared his wife, who was getting a bit skeared over
it, to take the girl a crust.

"'Tis my will against hers," he said, "and I've got the whip hand. Another
day without food will soon bring her to heel; and if it don't, I'll try
what a touch of my leather belt will do for the young devil."

Then he went to work, and the few folk he ferried that Sabbath day all
said that Jimmy was getting no better than a bear with a sore head, for he
hadn't a word to throw at man, or woman, but mumbled in his beard to
himself and scowled at the folk as if they were all his natural enemies.

And meantime the hours passed and Christie, though cruel distressed for
want of food,