ooked like commercial travellers were hurrying
along with their coat-collars turned up, and porters with heavy trunks
on their shoulders were striving to keep pace with them.

I gave my own trunk to a porter who came up to the cart, and then turned
to Tommy to say good-bye. The old man had got down from the shaft and
was smoothing his smoking horse, and snuffling as if he had caught a
cold.

"Good-bye, Tommy," I said--and then something more which I do not wish
to write down.

"Good-bye, lil missie," he answered (that cut me deep), "I never
believed ould Tom Dug would live to see ye laving home like this . . .
But wait! Only wait till himself is after coming back, and I'll go bail
it'll be the divil sit up for some of them."

SEVENTY-EIGHTH CHAPTER

It was very dark. No more than three or four lamps on the pier were
burning, but nevertheless I was afraid that the pier-master would
recognise me.

I thought he did so as I approached the gangway to the saloon, for he
said:

"Private cabin on main deck aft."

Nervous as I was, I had just enough presence of mind to say "Steerage,
please," which threw him off the scent entirely, so that he cried, in
quite a different voice:

"Steerage passengers forward."

I found my way to the steerage end of the steamer; and in order to
escape observation from the few persons on the pier I went down to the
steerage cabin, which was a little triangular place in the bow, with an
open stove in the middle of the floor and a bleary oil-lamp swinging
from a rafter overhead.

The porter found me there, and in my foolish ignorance of the value of
money I gave him half a crown for his trouble. He first looked at the
coin, then tested it between his teeth, then spat on it, and finally
went off chuckling.

The first and second bells rang. I grudged every moment of delay before
the steamer sailed, for I still felt like a prisoner who was running
away and might even yet be brought back.

Seating myself in the darkest corner of the cabin, I waited and watched.
There were only two other steerage passengers and they were women.
Judging by their conversation I concluded that they were cooks from
lodging-houses on "the front," returning after a long season to their
homes in Liverpool. Both were very tired, and they were spreading their
blankets on the bare bunks so as to settle themselves for the night.

At last the third bell rang. I heard the engine whistle, the funnel
belch out