‘What ship is she?’

‘T’ Resolution of Monkshaven!’ said he, indignantly, as if any goose might have known that.

‘An’ a good Resolution, and a blessed ship she’s been to me,’ piped out an old woman, close at Mary’s elbow.  ’She’s brought me home my ae’ lad—­for he shouted to yon boatman to bid him tell me he was well.  ‘Tell Peggy Christison,’ says he (my name is Margaret Christison)—­’tell Peggy Christison as her son Hezekiah is come back safe and sound.’  The Lord’s name be praised!  An’ me a widow as never thought to see my lad again!’

It seemed as if everybody relied on every one else’s sympathy in that hour of great joy.

’I ax pardon, but if you’d gie me just a bit of elbow-room for a minute like, I’d hold my babby up, so that he might see daddy’s ship, and happen, my master might see him.  He’s four months old last Tuesday se’nnight, and his feyther’s never clapt eyne on him yet, and he wi’ a tooth through, an another just breaking, bless him!’

One or two of the better end of the Monkshaven inhabitants stood a little before Molly and Sylvia; and as they moved in compliance with the young mother’s request, they overheard some of the information these ship-owners had received from the boatman.

’Haynes says they’ll send the manifest of the cargo ashore in twenty minutes, as soon as Fishburn has looked over the casks.  Only eight whales, according to what he says.’

‘No one can tell,’ said the other, ’till the manifest comes to hand.’

’I’m afraid he’s right.  But he brings a good report of the Good Fortune.  She’s off St Abb’s Head, with something like fifteen whales to her share.’

‘We shall see how much is true, when she comes in.’

‘That’ll be by the afternoon tide to-morrow.’

‘That’s my cousin’s ship,’ said Molly to Sylvia.  ’He’s specksioneer on board the Good Fortune.’

An old man touched her as she spoke—­

’I humbly make my manners, missus, but I’m stone blind; my lad’s aboard yon vessel outside t’ bar; and my old woman is bed-fast.  Will she be long, think ye, in making t’ harbour?  Because, if so be as she were, I’d just make my way back, and speak a word or two to my missus, who’ll be boiling o’er into some mak o’ mischief now she knows he’s so near.  May I be so bold as to ax if t’ Crooked Negro is covered yet?’

Molly stood on tip-toe to try and see the black stone thus named; but Sylvia, stooping and peeping through the glimpses afforded between the arms of the moving people, saw it first, and told the blind old man it was still above water.

‘A watched pot,’ said he, ’ne’er boils, I reckon.  It’s ta’en a vast o’ watter t’ cover that stone to-day.  Anyhow, I’ll have time to go home and rate my missus for worritin’ hersen, as I’ll be bound she’s done, for all as I bade her not, but to keep easy and content.’

‘We’d better be off too,’ said Molly, as an opening was made through the press to let out the groping old man.  ’Eggs and butter is yet to sell, and tha’ cloak to be bought.’